LITERATURE  AND  POETRT 


7" 


DR.  SCHAFPS  WORKS. 


Vol. 
Vol, 
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1. 

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'^  : 


■  >  ''■'  ?.. 


[St.  Andrews,   Scotland,    1888] 


LITERATL^KE 


AND 


POETRY 


STUDIES  ON  THE  ENGLISH  LANGUAGE  ;  THE  POETEY  OF  THE  BIBLE  ; 

THE   DIES    IK^  ;    THE    STABAT    MATEE  ;    THE    HYMNS    OF   ST.    BEENAED  J 

THE  UNIYEESITY,    ANCIENT  AND   MODEEN  ; 

DANTE  ALIGHIEEI  ;   THE   DIYINA   COMMEDIA 


PHILIP  SCHAFF    D.D.    LL.D 

PROFESSOR  OF  CHURCH  HISTORY  IN  THE  UNION  THEOLOGICAL  SEMINARY, 
NEW  YORK  • 


KEW  YOKK 
CHARLES    SCPIBNER'S   SONS 

1890 


COPYKIGHT,  1890,  BY 

CHAELES  SCKIBNEK'S  SONS. 


Wm.  F.  Fell  &  Co., 

PRINTERS, 
PHILADELPHIA. 


DEDICATED 


MY    FAMILY 


CONTENTS. 


I.  The  English  Language  :  Heterogeneous  in  Formation,  Homo- 
geneous IN   Character,  Universal  in   Destination  for 

THE  Spread  of  Civilization, 1-62 

Language  and  Reason,  1. — Origin  of  Language,  2. — Diversity  of 
Language,  3-4. — The  English  Language — Grimm's  Judgment, 
5. — The  Composite  Character  of  the  English  Race  and  Language, 
6. — The  Proportion  of  Saxon,  Latin,  and  other  Elements  in  Eng- 
lish, 7-8. — The  Anglo-Saxon  Stock,  9-14. — The  Saxon  Element 
in  the  English  Bible,  14. — Illustrations  from  Shakespeare,  15. — 
The  Latin  Element,  16. — Original  Latinisms,  16-19. — French 
Latinisms,  19-21. — The  Gradual  Mingling  of  the  Saxon  and  Nor- 
man, 21-23. — The  Relation  of  the  Norman  and  Saxon  Elements, 
23-25. — Illustrations  from  Milton,  26. — Illustrations  from  Daniel 
Webster,  26-29. — The  Other  Elements  of  the  English  Language, 
29.— The  Celtic  Element,  29.— The  Danish,  or  Norse  Element, 
30.— Hebrew  Words,  31.— Greek  Words,  31.— Dutch  Words, 
32.— Italian  Words,  33.— Spanish  Words,  33.  Arabic  Words, 
33. — Persian  Words,  33. — Turkish  Words,  34. — Slavonic  Words, 
34. — Indian  Words  and  Names,  34. — Americanisms,  34. — Hybrid 
Words,  35. — The  Organic  Union  of  these  Elements,  36. — Results 
of  this  Mixture.  Spelling,  37. — New  Middle  Sounds,  38. — Musical 
English — Illustrations  from  Byron,  Tennyson,  and  Poe,  37-38. — 
Simplicity  of  the  Grammar,  40-41. — Brevity,  42-45. — Monosylla- 
bic Character,  45. — Illustrations  from  Shakespeare,  Wordsworth, 
Byron,  Tennyson,  46-50. — Large  Number  of  Synonyms,  51-54. — 
Perfectibility,  54-55. — Cosmopolitan  Destination,  55. — Spread  of 
the  English  Language,  56-59. — Providential  Design,  59-60. — The 
English  Language  and  the  Bible,  60-62. — Conclusion,  62. 

IL  The  Poetry  OF  the  Bible, 63-133 

Origin  of  Poetry  and  Music,  64. — Poetry  and  Inspiration,  65. — 
Poetry  and  Religion,  65.— The  Poetry  of  the  Bible,  66.— The 
Spirit  of  Bible  Poetry,  70.— Poetic  Merit,  74.— Tributes  of  Poets 
and  Scholars  to  Hebrew  Poetry,  77.  Classification  of  Bible  Po- 
etry, 79, — Lyric  Poetry,  80. — The  Song  of  Lamech,  82. — The  Song 
of  Moses,  83. — Lyrics  in  the  Later  Historical  Books,  86. — David's 
Lament  of  Jonathan,  88. — The  Psalter,  91. — The  Lamentations, 

ix 


CONTENTS. 

93. — Lyrics  in  the  New  Testament,  95. — Didactic  Poetry,  97. — 
The  Proverbs,  99. — Ecclesiastes,  104. — Fable  and  Parable,  105. — 
Prophetic  Poetry,  106. — Dramatic  Poetry,  112. — The  Song  of 
Songs,  113.— The  Book  of  Job,  116.— The  Form  of  Bible  Poetry: 
Poetic  Diction,  120. — Versification,  122. — Parallelism  of  Mem- 
bers, 125. — Literature  on  Bible  Poetry,  130. 


The  Received  Latin  Text,  134. — The  Name  and  Use  of  the 
Poem,  134. — Contents,  134. — Character  and  Value,  138. — Opin- 
ions of  Critics,  141. — Origin  and  History,  145. — Thomas  of  Ce- 
lano,  146.— The  Text  of  Mantua,  149.— The  Text  of  Hammer- 
lin  of  Zurich,  150. — A  Political  Perversion,  151. — Translation  of 
the  Dies  L-se,  152. — English  Translations,  155. — German  Trans- 
lations, 173. — Literature,  182. — Chronological  List  of  English 
Versions,  183. 

IV.  The  Stabat  Mater  Dolorosa, 187-217 

The  Two  Stabat  Maters,  187.— The  Mater  Dolorosa,  188.— 
Character  and  History  of  the  Hymn,  190. — Francis  of  Assisi, 

195. — Jacobus  de  Benedictis,  196. — English  Translations,  198. 
— German  Translations,  210. — Literature,  216. 

V.  The  Stabat  Mater  Speciosa, 218-231 

The  Latin  Text,  218. — The  Discovery  of  the  Mater  Speciosa, 
220.— Authorship,  222.— Merits,  222.— English  Translations, 
223. — German  Translations,  229. 

VI.  St.  Bernard  as  a  Hymnist, 232-255 

Sketch  of  St.  Bernard  of  Clairvaux,  232. — "  Jesu  dulcis  Memo- 

ria,"  233.— The  Benedictine  Text,  234.— Mone's  Text,  237.— 
English  Translations,  by  Caswall,  239. — By  J.  W.  Alexander, 
241.— By  Ray  Palmer,  242.— By  A.  Coles,  242.— German  Trans- 
lation by  Count  Zinzendorf,  243. — St.  Bernard's  Passion 
Hymns,  245. — Ad  Cor  Christi :  "  Summi  Regis  Cor,  Aveto," 
245. — Translation  of  Edward  A.  Washburn,  246. — Ad  Faciem 
Christi:  "  Salve  Caput  Cruentatura,"  248. — Translation  by  Mrs. 
E.  R.  Charles,  249.— By  A.  Coles,  250.— Modern  Reproduc- 
tions of  Ancient  Hymns,  252. — Gerhardt's  "0  Haupt  voU  Blut 
und  Wunden,"  253. — J.  W.  Alexander's  "  0  Sacred  Head  now- 
Wounded,"  263. 

VII.  The  Umversity  :  Past,  Present,  and  Future, 256-278 

The  Mediaeval  University,  256.     The  University  of  Bologna, 

262.  The  Eighth  Centenary  of  the  University  of  Bologna, 
265. — The  American  University,  273. — Appendix,  278. 


CONTENTS.  XI 

PAGE 

VIII.  Daxte  Alighieri, 279-337 

Dante,  Shakespeare,  Goethe,  279.— Life  of  Dante,  284.— Dante 

and  Beatrice,  28G. — The  Donna  Pietosa,  292. — Dante's  Educa- 
tion, 298.— His  Learning,  299.— His  Marriage,  299.— Dante 
in  Public  Life,  300. — His  Banishment.  Dante  and  Boniface 
YIIL,  303.— Dante  in  Exile,  304,  — Can  Grande,  the  Veltro, 
and  the  Dux,  308. — Dante  in  Ravenna,  312. — Death  and  Bu- 
rial, 313. — Posthumous  Fame,  314. — The  Sixth  Centenary  of 
Dante's  Birth,  315. — Character  and  Habits  of  Dante,  316. — 
Portraits  of  Dante,  317. — The  Works  of  Dante,  319. — The  New 
Life,  319.— The  Banquet,  319.— On  the  Empire,  320.— The 
Canzoniere,  322.  —  On  Popular  Eloquence,  323. — On  Water  and 
Earth,  323.— Letters,  324.— The  Creed,  324.— The  Comedy, 
325.— Note  on  Giotto's  Portrait  of  Dante,  325. 

Dante  Chronicle, 326 

Dante  Literature, 338 

IX.  Poetic  Tributes  to  Dante 338-344 

Michael  Angelo  Buonarotti,  338.— Ludwig  Uhland,  339.— W. 
W.  Skeat,  340. — Henry  Wardsworth  Longfellow,  343. — Alfred 
Tennyson,  343. — Emanuel  Geibel,  344. 

X.  The  DivixA  Commedia 345-429 

General  Estimate,  345. — The  Sources  of  the  Commedia,  348. — 
Name  of  the  Poem,  352. — Time  of  Composition,  354. — Dura- 
tion of  the  Vision,  356. — Dante's  Cosmology,  357. — Explana- 
tion of  the  Commedia,  360. — Design  of  the  Commedia,  365. — 
The  Way  to  Paradise,  367.— The  Poetic  Form  of  the  Com- 
media, 370. — The  Dark  Forest,  372. — The  Inscription  to  Hell, 
373. — Eternal  Punishment,  375. — Vestibule  or  Fore-Hell,  378. 
— The  Structure  of  the  Inferno,  380. — Sin  and  Punishment, 
382.— Impartiality  of  Dante,  383.— The  Nine  Circles  of  the 
Inferno,  384.— The  Purgatorio,  392.— The  Paradiso,  395.— The 
Beatific  Vision,  403. — Dante's  Theology,  405. — Dante's  Rela- 
tion to  the  Papacy  and  the  Reformation,  410. — Dante  and  the 
Joachimites,  416. — Dante  and  Scbelling.  The  Three  Ages  of 
Christianity,  424. 

Alphabetical  Index, 431-436 

Illustrations. 

Dante's  Universe, 357 

Dante's  Inferno, 380 

Dante's  Purgatorio, • 392 

The  Rose  of  the  Blessed,  in  Dante's  Paradiso, 40S 


THE  ENGLISH  LANGUAGE: 

ITS    COSMOPOLITAN    CHARACTER   AND    MISSION    FOR   THE   SPREAD 
OF    CIVILIZATION. 


LANGUAGE  AND  EEASON. 

Language,  next  to  reason,  is  the  greatest  gift  of  God  to  man. 
It  raises  him  above  the  brute  creation  and  makes  him  the  prophet 
and  king  of  nature.  It  is  the  inseparable  companion  of  rea- 
son, its  utterance  and  embodiment,  the  interpreter  of  thought 
and  feeling,  the  medium  of  intercourse,  the  bond  of  society,  and 
the  source  of  all  that  happiness  which  springs  from  contact  be- 
tween heart  and  heart.  It  is  the  ^^  armory  of  the  human  mind, 
and  at  once  contains  the  trophies  of  its  past  and  the  weapons  of 
its  future  conquests.^' 

So  close  is  the  connection  between  intelligence  and  speech,  be- 
tween thought  and  word,  that  the  one  may  be  called  the  inward 
speech,  or  speech  concealed,  and  the  other  the  outward  thought, 
or  thought  revealed.  Hence,  also,  the  intimate  relation  between 
grammar,  which  treats  of  the  laws  of  language,  and  logic,  which 
teaches  the  laws  of  thought;  the  one  is  the  logic  of  speech,  the 
other  the  grammar  of  reason.  The  second  person  of  the  holy 
Trinity  is  called  by  St.  John  the  ^^ Logos,''  or  the  personal  Word; 
for  in  him  God  is  revealed  to  himself,  and  through  him  he 
reveals  himself  to  the  world. 

A  distinguished  writer  on  comparative  philology  denies  this 
connection  between  reason  and  language.  He  maintains  that 
language  belongs  not  to  man  as  an  individual,  but  as  a  member 
of  society,  and  that  a  solitary  child  would  never  frame  a  lan- 
guage, but  remain  a  mute  all  his  life.  Granted,  but  such  a 
child  would  also  remain  ignorant  and  would  never  become  a 
man  intellectually  or  morally.     All  his  mental  faculties  would 

1 


2  THE  ENGLISH  LANGUAGE. 

lie  dormant  or  be  extinguished  altogether.  It  is  idle  to  reason 
from  a  sheer  possibility  which  God  never  intended,  and  which 
would  destroy  the  very  nature  and  destiny  of  man.  For  man 
is  essentially  and  constitutionally  a  social  as  he  is  a  rational 
being.  In  the  same  degree  in  which  the  mind  produces  thoughts 
it  also  clothes  them  in  words  of  some  kind,  although  they  may 
not  be  expressed  or  uttered.  If  a  man  thinks  he  knows  a  thing, 
but  cannot  say  it,  his  knowledge  is  to  the  same  extent  defective ; 
the  idea  may  be  begotten,  but  it  is  not  born  until  it  assumes 
shape  and  form  in  some  word  or  words,  or  some  symbolic  signs, 
however  imperfectly  they  may  convey  the  meaning.  And  it 
must  be  admitted  that  language  even  in  its  most  perfect  state 
is  only  a  partial  revelation  of  reason  which  has  hidden  depths 
transcending  the  resources  of  grammar  and  dictionary.  All 
human  knowledge  ^'ends  in  mystery,''^ 

ORIGIN  OF  LANGUAGE. 

The  origin  of  language  must  be  divine,  like  that  of  reason 
itself.  In  creatino;  Adam  a  rational  beino;  or  with  the  facultv  of 
knowledge,  God  endowed  him  at  the  same  time  not,  indeed,  with 
a  full-formed  grammar  and  diction,  as  little  as  with  a  minute 
positive  knowledge  of  all  surrounding  objects,  but  with  the 
power  or  capacity  and  with  the  organ  of  articulate  speech,  and 
taught  him  also  the  actual  use  of  words  as  signs  of  ideas.  This 
capacity  grew  and  developed  itself  with  the  expansion  of  reason 
and  observation,  knowledge  and  experience,  by  an  inherent  law 
and  impulse  or  instinct  under  the  direction  of  the  Creator. 
Adam  himself  named  his  female  companion  and  the  objects  of 

'  The  science  of  language  as  such  is  of  recent  growth,  but  lias  made  aston- 
ishing progress  in  connection  with  comparative  pliilology.  It  was  nurtured 
by  Wilhelm  von  Humboldt,  the  brothers  Schlegel,  Bopp,  Grimm,  Pott,  in 
Germany  ;  by  Rask,  in  Denmark;  Burnouf  and  Renan,  in  France;  JNIax 
Miiller,  in  England  ;  Marsh,  Brown,  Dwight,  Scheie  de  Vere,  White,  Whit- 
ney, in  America.  See  Mailer's  Lectures  on  the  Science  of  Language,  8th  cd. 
1875,  2  vols. ;  and  Whitney's  Language  and  the  Study  of  Language,  18G7. 
For  the  chief  authorities  on  the  English  language  I  refer  to  the  long  list  of 
Skeat  in  his Etijm.  Diet.,  pp.  xxiii.-xxviii.,  and  to  the  list  at  tlie  head  of  Goold 
Brown's  Grammar  of  English  Grammars,  10th  ed.,  by  Berrian  (New  York, 
1875,  pp.  xi.-xx.). 


THE  ENGLISH  LANGUAGE.  3 

nature  as  they  passed  before  him,  but  he  did  it  at  the  suggestion 
of  God  and  with  the  faculty  ira{)arted  to  him.-^ 

Every  language  commenced,  as  it  does  now  in  children,  with 
a  scanty  list  of  root-words,  mostly  onomatopoetic  and  exclama- 
tory or  interjectional,  expressing  the  most  obvious  objects  of 
sense  and  sensations  of  the  heart,  and  reached  its  relative  per- 
fection by  a  slow  and  gradual  historical  growth  corresponding 
to  the  growth  of  civilization  and  literature. 

Professor  Skeat  closes  the  preface  to  his  Etymol.  Dictionary 
(Oxford,  1882)  with  the  truthful  remark,  ^'  The  speech  of  man 
is  influenced  by  physical  laws,  in  other  words,  by  the  working 
of  Divine  power.  It  is  therefore  possible  to  pursue  the  study 
of  language  in  a  spirit  of  reverence  similar  to  that  in  which  we 
study  what  are  called  the  works  of  nature ;  and  by  the  aid  of 
that  spirit  we  may  gladly  perceive  a  new  meaning  in  the  sublime 
line  of  our  poet  Coleridge,  that 

"  'Earth,  with  her  thousaud  voices,  praises  God.'  " 

DIVERSITY   OF   LANGUAGE. 

The  diversity  of  language  is  traced  by  the  Bible  to  the  pride 
and  confusion  of  Babel.  But  it  was  nevertheless  decreed  and  is 
controlled  by  divine  Providence  like  the  diversity  of  nations. 
God  made  of  one  blood  all  nations  of  the  earth,  says  Paul,  and 
determined  the  bounds  of  their  habitation.  He  raises  up 
nations  for  particular  purposes  and  assigns  them  a  peculiar 
work. 

Every  language  reflects  the  genius  of  the  nation  which  uses 
it  as  the  organ  of  its  inner  life,  and  serves  the  special  mission 
which  it  is  called  to  fulfill  in  the  great  family  of  nations  and  in 
the  drama  of  history.  The  knowledge  of  the  language,  there- 
fore, is  the  key  to  the  knowledge  of  the  people  with  which  it  is 
identified. 

The  Hebrew  language,  by  its  simplicity  and  sublimity,  was 
admirably  adapted  to  be  the  organ  of  the  earliest  revelations  of 

^  Comp.  Gen.  i.  19.  "Webster  makes  language  itself,  as  well  as  the  faculty 
of  speech,  the  immediate  gift  of  God,  but  supposes  it  to  have  been  very  lim- 
ited in  vocabulary.     See  Introd.  to  his  Dictionary. 


4  THE   ENGLISH   LANGUAGE. 

God,  of  priraitiv^e  history,  poetry,  and  prophecy,  which  prepared 
men  for  Christianity.  Its  literature  remains  to  this  day  an  ever 
fresh  fountain  of  popular  instruction  and  devotion. 

The  Greek  abounds  in  wealth,  vitality,  elasticity,  and  beauty; 
and  hence  it  became  the  organ  not  only  of  every  branch  of 
ancient  classical  science  and  art,  but  also  of  the  eternal  truths  of 
Christianity. 

The  Latin  embodies  the  commanding  power,  dignity  and  ma- 
jesty of  the  old  Roman  people  which  conquered  the  world  by 
the  sword  and  organized  it  by  law.  It  ruled  the  literature  of 
Europe  long  after  the  downfall  of  the  Western  empire  and 
became  the  fruitful  mother  of  all  Romanic  languages.  It  is 
still  and  will  remain  the  official  organ  of  the  Roman  Church. 

Of  the  Romanic  languages  again,  each  has  its  peculiar  merit 
and  beauty. 

The  Italian,  spoken  by  an  imaginative,  excitable,  art-loving 
people,  in  a  warm  climate,  under  serene  skies,  sounds  like  music 
itself,  and  glows  with  all  the  fire  of  passion.  ^'It  melts  like 
kisses  from  a  woman's  mouth.'' ^ 

The  Spanish,  by  its  pathos  and  grandezza,  reminds  us  of  the 
days  of  Castilian  chivalry. 

The  French  is  the  medium  of  travel,  fashion,  and  diplomacy 
on  the  Continent  of  Europe,  and  expresses  the  clearness,  direct- 
ness, and  precision,  the  polished  ease  and  elegance,  the  sprightly 
vigor,  the  mercurial  vivacity,  and  martial  fire,  but  also  the 
lightness  and  fickleness  of  the  French,  whom  one  of  their 
most  philosophic  writers,  M.  de  Tocqueville,  characterizes  as 
at  once  ^^  the  most  brilliant  and  the  most  dangerous  nation 
of  Europe." 

The  German  language,  in  native  strength,  fullness,  depth,  and 
flexibility,  as  also  in  the  leavening  influence  of  its  literature 
upon  the  progress  of  knowledge,  strongly  resembles  the  ancient 
Greek,  and  is  best  adapted  for  the  mining  operations  of  thought, 
for  every  kind  of  speculative  and  scientific  research  and  every 
form  of  poetry,  but  far  less  for  business,  commerce,  political 
life,  forensic  and  parliamentary  eloquence,  than  eitiier  the  French 
or  the  English. 

•  ^^ Lingua  Ihacatia  in  hoca  Eomana  c  la  bcllissima  lingua  dd  mondo.'^ 


THE  ENGLISH  LANGUAGE.  5 

THE  ENGLISH  LANGUAGE— GRIMM'S  JUDGMENT. 

Tiie  character  of  the  English  language  cannot  be  better 
expressed  than  in  the  words  of  Professor  Jacob  Grimm,  the 
author  of  the  most  learned  German  grammar  and,  jointly  with 
his  brother,  of  the  best  German  dictionary. 

"  Among  all  the  modern  languages,'^  he  says,  ^^  none  has,  by 
giving  up  and  confounding  all  the  laws  of  sound,  and  by  cutting 
off  nearly  all  the  inflexions,  acquired  greater  strength  and  vigor 
than  the  English.  Its  fullness  of  free  middle  sounds  which  can- 
not be  taught,  but  only  learned,  is  the  cause  of  an  essential  force 
of  expression  such  as  perhaps  never  stood  at  the  command  of 
any  other  language  of  men.  Its  entire  highly  intellectual  and 
wonderfully  happy  structure  and  development  are  the  result  of  a 
surprisingly  intimate  marriage  of  the  two  noblest  languages  in 
modern  Europe,  the  Germanic  and  the  Romance  ;  the  former  (as 
is  well  known)  supplying  in  far  larger  proportion  the  material 
groundwork,  the  latter  the  intellectual  conceptions.  As  to 
vrealth,  intellectuality,  and  closeness  of  structure,  none  of  all 
the  living  languages  can  be  compared  with  it.  In  truth,  the 
English  language,  which  by  no  mere  accident  has  produced 
and  upborne  the  greatest  and  most  commanding  poet  of  modern 
times  as  distinguished  from  the  ancient  classics — I  can,  of  course, 
only  mean  Shakespeare — may  with  full  propriety  be  called  a 
world-language  ;  and  like  the  English  people  it  seems  destined 
hereafter  to  prevail  even  more  extensively  than  at  present  in  all 
the  ends  of  the  earth. '^  ^ 

*  Ueher  den  Ursprung  der  Sprache^  Berlin,  1852,  p.  50  :  ^^  Keine  unter  alien 
neueren  Sprachenliat  gerade  durch  das  Aufgehen  und  Zerriittcn  aller  Laufgesetze, 
dunh  den  Wegfall  beinahe  sdmmtlicher  Flexionen  cine  grossere  Kraft  und  Sidrke 
€m])fangc7i,  als  die  englische,  und  von  ihrcr  nicJtt  einmal  lehrbaren,  nnr  lernharen 
F'dlle  freier  Mitteltone  ist  eine  icesentliche  Gewalt  des  Ausdruckes  ahhdngig  gcwor- 
dcn,  u-ic  sie  viclleicht  noch  nie  einer  menscJdichen  Zunge  zu  Geboie  stand.  Ihre 
ganze,  iibemus  geistige,  wunderbar  gcglilckte  Anlage  und  Durchbitdung  war  her- 
vorgegangen  aus  einer  iiberrasehenden  Vermdhlung  der  beiden  edelsten  Sprachen 
des  spdtercn  Europas,  der  germanischen  und  romanischen,  und  bekannt  ist,  wie 
ini  Englischen  sich  beide  zu  einander  verhalten,  indemjene  bei  weitem  die  sinnliche 
Grundlage  hergab,  diese  die  gei^figen  Begriffe  zufiihrie.  Aii  Eeichthum,  Ver- 
nunft  und  gedrdngter  Fuge  Idsd  sick  keine  aller  noch  Icbenden  Sprachen  ihr  an 
die  Seiie  setzen.     Ja  die  englische  Sprache,  von  der  nicht  umsonst  der  grosste  und 


6  THE   ENGLISH  LANGUAGE. 

This  remarkable  eulogy  on  the  language  of  Great  Britain  and 
North  America  has  the  more  weight  as  it  comes  from  a  foreign 
scholar  who  is  not  blinded  by  national  prejudice  and  vanity, 
and  is  universally  acknowledged  to  be  one  of  the  first  masters 
of  the  entire  field  of  Teutonic  philology  and  literature. 

I  shall  choose  it  as  the  text  of  my  dissertation. 

THE  COMPOSITE  CHARACTER  OF  THE  ENGLISH  RACE  AND 
LANGUAGE. 

The  origin,  growth  and  material  of  the  English  language 
clearly  indicate  its  comprehensive  destiny.  The  character  and 
history  of  the  nation  and  of  the  language  singularly  correspond 
in  this  case.  Every  stage  in  the  progress  of  the  one  forms  an 
epoch  for  the  other.  Every  invasion  of  England  left  its  perma- 
nent trace  in  the  language  and  enriched  its  power  and  capacity. 
The  English  language  contains  the  fossil  poetry,  philosophy,  and 
history  of  the  English  people.  The  changes  and  enrichments  of 
the  language  have  been  brought  about  by  the  irresistible  force 
of  time  and  custom,  and  by  the  multiform  pursuits,  the  migra- 
tory habits,  and  universal  trade  of  the  English  race,  but  most  of 
all  by  the  successive  immigrations  of  foreigners. 

It  is  well  known  that  the  English  people  are  not  a  homoge- 
neous race,  but  an  organic  mixture  of  different  national  elements. 
So  also  their  language  derived  its  material  from  many  sources, 
like  a  mighty  river  in  its  majestic  flow  through  fertile  valleys  to 
the  boundless  sea.  Almost  every  language  of  Europe,  besides 
some  of  Asia,  Africa  and  America,  has  furnished  its  contribu- 
tion. 

Professor  Skeat  distributes  the  English  words  under  the  fol- 
lowing heads:  English  {i  e.,  Anglo-Saxon  and  Middle  English 
of  the  earlier  period).  Old  Low  German,  Low  German,  Dutch, 
Scandinavian,  German,  French  from  German,  Teutonic  (in  a 
general  sense),  Celtic,  Romanic  Languages  (including  Italian, 

uherlcf/en.ste  Dichier  dcr  neuen  Zeit,  im  Gegensatz  zur  dassischcn  alien  Poesie — 
ich  knnn  vaCdrJich  nur  Shakespeare  meinen — gezeugt  und  geiragen  worden  ist,  sie 
darf  mit  voUeni  Reekie  cine  Welispraehe  heissen  und  seheint  gleieh  dem  englisehen 
Volke  auaersehen,  k'dnftig  noch  in  huheretn  Masse  an  alien  Enden  der  Erdc  za 
walten. ' ' 


THE  ENGLISH  LAXGUAGE.  7 

French,  Spanish  and  Portuguese),  Latin,  French  from  Latin, 
French  from  Low  Latin,  Provenyal  from  Latin,  Italian  from 
Latin,  Spanish  from  Latin,  Portuguese  from  Latin,  Low  Latin, 
Greek,  French  from  Latin  from  Greek,  Slavonic,  Lithuanian, 
Asiatic  Aryan  Languages  (Persian,  Sanskrit),  European  non- 
Aryan  Languages,  Semitic  Languages  (Hebrew,  Arabic),  Hindu- 
stani, Malay,  African  Languages,  American  Languages,  and 
Hybrid  Words  (made  up  from  two  different  languages).^ 

The  two  principal  sources  are  the  German,  or  Anglo-Saxon, 
and  the  Latin,  or  Norman-French  ;  the  other  elements  are  small 
side-currents  Avhich  have  enriched  to  a  greater  or  less  extent 
almost  every  other  civilized  language  of  modern  Europe. 

THE   PROPORTION  OF   SAXON,  LATIX,  AXD   OTHER   ELEMEXTS 
IX  THE  EXGLISH  LAXGUAGE. 

The  authorities  which  I  have  consulted  differ  in  their  estimates 
of  the  proportion  of  these  various  elements  which  enter  into  the 
English  language.  Dr.  R.  G.  Latham,  the  late  distinguished 
professor  of  the  English  language  and  literature  in  the  Univer- 
sity College  of  London,  supposes  that  of  forty  thousand  English 
words  thirty  thousand  are  Anglo-Saxon,  five  thousand  Anglo- 
Norman,  one  hundred  Celtic,  sixty  Latin,  fifty  Scandinavian, 
and  the  rest  miscellaneous.^  The  number  of  words  of  direct 
Latin  origin  seems  here  considerably  understated. 

Archbishop  Richard  Chenevix  Trench  estimates  that  of  a 
hundred  parts  of  the  English  language  sixty  are  Saxon,  thirty 
Latin  and  French,  five  Greek,  and  the  remaining  five  from  all 
other  sources  which  have  contributed  to  its  stock.^ 

This  is  probably  correct  as  an  average  estimate.  But  we  must 
make  a  material  distinction  between  the  language  of  the  diction- 
ary or  the  language  at  rest  and  the  language  in  actual  use  or 
the  language  in  motion.  The  latter  is  more  predominantly  Saxon 
than  the  former. 

The  entire  vocabulary  of  the  English  language  as  found  in  the 

•  Efymol.  Did.,  pp.  747-771. 

2  A  Handbook  of  the  English  Grammar  (American  ed.,  New  York,  1852), 
pp.  62,  63.     Conip.  Preface  to  his  enlarged  ed.  of  Johnson's  Dictionary. 
^  English  Past  and  Present  (Xew  York  ed.,  1855),  p.  19. 


8  THE   ENGLISH  LANGUAGE. 

dictionaries  exceeds  the  number  of  one  hundred  thousand  words. 
But  of  these  only  about  ten  thousand  are  used  for  ordinary 
written  composition,  and  perhaps  not  more  than  five  thousand 
for  common  intercourse.^ 

Now,  we  may  safely  say  that  the  living  English  is  more  pre- 
dominantly Saxon  than  the  dictionary  English,  and  the  spoken 
Eno-lish  even  more  than  the  written.  Sharon  Turner  and  Noah 
Webster  assert  that  more  than  four-fifths  of  modern  English 
words  in  actual  use  are  of  Saxon  descent.^ 

This  is  no  doubt  true  of  the  daily  conversational  language. 
But  we  doubt  its  general  applicability  to  book  language,  where 
the  proportion  of  native  Saxon  to  foreign  words  depends  very 
much  upon  the  education  and  taste  of  the  author  and  the  nature 
of  his  subject,  and  can  therefore  not  be  absolutely  determined. 
It  is  stated  that  in  the  Authorized  Version  of  the  Bible  and  in 
Shakespeare  60  per  cent,  of  the  vocabulary  are  of  Saxon  origin 
(whicli  would  very  nearly  correspond  to  the  Saxon  proportion  in 
the  language  itself) ;  that  in  Milton's  poetical  works  about  two- 
thirds  of  the  vocabulary  are  foreign,  but  that  in  the  sixth  book 
of  Paradise  Lost  four-fifths  of  all  the  words  are  Saxon.  The 
style  of  Johnson  abounds  in  Latinisms,  but  in  the  })reface  to  his 
Dictionary  there  are  '^  72  per  cent,  of  Saxon  words.''  ^ 

^  C.  P.  jVLarsli  says  {Lectures  on  the  English  Language^  New  York,  1860, 
p.  183)  :  "Few  writers  or  speakers  use  as  many  as  ten  thousand  words,  ordi- 
nary persons  of  fair  intelligence  not  above  three  or  four  thousand.  If  a 
scholar  were  to  be  required  to  name,  without  examination,  the  authors  whose 
English  Yocabulary  was  the  largest,  he  would  probably  specify  the  all- 
embracing  Shakespeare  and  the  all-knowing  INIilton.  And  yet  in  all  the 
worlcs  of  the  great  dramatist,  there  occur  not  more  than  fifteen  thousand 
words,  in  the  poems  of  Milton  not  above  eight  thousand." 

2  See  Webster's  i)/c^,ed.  of  1850,  Introd.,  p.  li.  Note.  In  the  ed.  of 
Goodrich  c^  Porter,  1864,  p.  xxviii.,  it  is  stated  that  the  preponderance 
of  Saxon  words  varies  from  60  to  more  than  90  per  cent. 

^  A.  H.  ^Yelsh,  in  Development  of  English  Literature  and  Language,  Chicago, 
1886  (7th  ed.),  vol.  i.,  53,  allows  a  much  higher  i:)ercentage  to  Anglo-Saxon  in 
the  various  departments  of  literature.  His  estimate  of  tlie  relative  pro]>ortion 
of  Anglo-Saxon  is  as  follows  :  Bible,  93  ;  Poetry,  88  ;  Prayer-Book,  87  ; 
Fiction,  87  ;  i:ssay,  78  ;  Oratory,  76  ;  History,  72  ;  Newspaper,  7'2  ;  lihetorie, 
G9. 


THE   ENGLISH   LANGUAGE.  9 

THE  ANGLO-SAXON  STOCK. 

The  various  languages  of  the  earth,  amounting  to  about  nine 
hundred,  are  now  divided  by  comparative  philologists  into  three 
great  families,  called  the  Aryan  (formerly  called  Indo-Ger- 
MANic),  the  Semitic,  and  the  Turanian  (a  doubtful  nomencla- 
ture for  an  indefinite  number  of  lano^ua<2;es  with  the  ao^o^luti native 
structure).  The  Aryan  family  again  embraces  the  tongues  of 
India  and  Persia,  the  Greek  and  Latin,  the  Romanic,  the  Celtic, 
the  Teutonic,  and  the  Slavonic  languages  and  dialects. 

The  English,  like  the  Dutch,  Frisian,  Gothic,  Icelandic, 
Swedish,  Danish,  and  High  German,  belongs  to  the  Teutonic  or 
Germanic  branch,  and  shares  all  its  main  characteristics.  The 
grammar,  the  bone  and  sinew,  the  heart  and  soul  of  the  English 
language,  are  thoroughly  Germanic,  whatever  be  the  number 
of  its  foreig^n  ino;redients. 

It  partakes  of  the  main  characteristics  of  the  family  to  which 
it  belongs.  The  Germanic  language,  with  its  various  dialects, 
is  a  free,  independent,  original  language.  It  is  neither  obtruded 
by  a  foreign  conqueror,  nor  learned  by  slaves,  as  the  Spanish, 
English,  and  French  were  learned  by  the  Indians  and  African 
negroes,  nor  derived  from  an  older  language,  like  the  idioms  of 
southern  Europe,  which  are  descended  from  the  Latin.  It  pre- 
ceded the  Christianization  of  the  nations  of  central  and  northern 
Europe  and  accompanied  them  through  all  their  phases  of  devel- 
opment to  the  present  time.  It  embraces  the  two  great  periods 
of  mediaeval  and  modern  civilization.  It  has  a  primitive  vigor, 
exuberant  wealth,  and  is  adapted  to  all  the  manifestations  of  the 
human  mind.  It  is  equal  to  the  deepest  researches  of  thought 
and  the  hio:hest  flio-hts  of  fancy.  Most  of  its  words  have  their 
meaning,  not  by  agreement  and  conventional  usage,  but  by 
nature.  It  rolls  with  the  thunder  and  flashes  with  the  lightning ; 
it  roars  with  the  storm  and  blusters  with  the  sea;  it  whispers 
with  the  breeze  and  lisps  with  the  leaf;  it  rushes  with  the  moun- 
tain torrent  and  murmurs  with  the  brook  ;  it  shouts  with  heaven 
and  bellows  with  hell. 

The  Germanic  dialect  which  underlies  the  present  English  is 
called  Anglo-Saxon,  from  the  tribes  which  imported  it  from 


10  THE   ENGLISH   LANGUAGE. 

Germany  to  England.  It  goes  back  to  the  origin  of  the  English 
race  in  the  middle  of  the  fifth,  if  not  the  fourth,  century,  when, 
according  to  the  *' Saxon  Chronicle,''  various  German  tribes, 
especially  the  Angles  and  Saxons^  under  the  leadership  of  Hengist 
and  his  brother  Horsa^ — the  Romulus  and  Remus  of  English 
history — migrated  in  successive  invasions  from  the  regions 
between  the  Elbe  and  the  Rhine  into  Britain,  wresting  the 
larger  part  from  its  original  inhabitants  of  the  Celtic  stock, 
changing  it  from  Britain  to  England  and  laying  the  foundation 
for  that  remarkable  people  which  from  that  rock-bound  island 
extends  the  sceptre  of  its  dominion  to  the  extremities  of  the 
globe.  They  were  then  heathen  savages,  but  endowed  with  all 
the  physical,  intellectual,  and  moral  requisites  for  a  great  nation. 

The  Anglo-Saxon  language  belongs  to  the  Low  German  branch 
of  the  Teutonic  family,  and  is  therefore  allied  with  the  various 
dialects,  called  Piatt- Deutsch,  with  the  Frieslc,  and  the  Nether- 
landish, or  Dutch.  But  it  also  differs  from  them  all.  It  was 
probably  a  mixture  of  the  dialects  of  the  different  German  tribes, 
who  met  in  England,  and  is  so  far  indigenous,  like  the  later 
English  itself.  There  is  no  proof  that  it  was  spoken  anywhere 
but  in  Great  Britain.  It  never  attained  to  its  full  development, 
like  the  Continental  German.  Its  progress  was  arrested  by  the 
Norman  conquest. 

The  most  considerable  monument  of  the  original  Anglo-Saxon 
tongue  is  the  Beowulf,  an  essentially  pagan  epic,  revised  by  some 
Christian  writer.  Caedmon,  first  a  swine-herd,  then  a  monk  at 
Whitby  (about  680),  sung,  as  by  inspiration,  the  wonders  of 
creation  and  redemption,  and  became  the  father  of  Christian 
Saxon  poetry.  The  works  of  King  Alfred,  the  best  of  British 
rulers,  may  be  taken  as  the  best  specimens  of  Saxon  prose. 

Of  the  Continental  or  German  Saxon  we  have  but  fragmentary 
remains,  of  a  later  period,  especially  in  Ileliand  (from  heal,  IIc'il- 

^  Hence  the  combination  Anglo-Saxon.  Gildas,  the  oldest  British  author, 
who  wrote  in  the  sixth  century,  more  than  one  hundred  and  fifty  years  before 
Bede,  mentions  only  the  Saxons,  with  genuine  Celtic  hatred — ^''fcrocissimi  illi 
ncfandi  nominis  Saxoncs. ' '  Latham  doubts  the  immigration  of  Jutes  or  Danes 
from  Jutland,  as  attested  by  the  Saxon  historian  Bede. 

2  Both  these  terms  are  common  to  the  Teutonic  and  Scandinavian  dialects, 
and  signify  the  genus  horse  (comp.  the  German  Hcngst  and  liosn). 


THE   ENGLISH   LANGUAGE. 


11 


and,  i.e.,  Saviour),  a  life  of  Christ  in  alliterative  meter,  of  the 
ninth  or  tenth  century.  But  several  hundred  years  before,  in 
the  fourth  century,  the  Arian  bishop  Ulphilas,  or  Wulfila 
(^Yolflein,  i.e.,  Little  Wolf)  had  translated  the  Bible  into  the 
cognate  Gothic,  of  ^yhich  considerable  fragments  have  been  pub- 
lished by  Angelo  Mai,  Massmann,  Bernhardt,  Stramm,  and  in 
fac-simile  by  Uppstrom.^ 

In  many  \yords  and  grammatical  forms  the  present  English  is 
nearer  the  original  Saxon  and  Gothic  than  the  present  German, 
and  reveals  more  clearly  its  kinship  with  the  Sanscrit,  the  oldest 
sister  of  the  Indo-Germanic  or  Aryan  languages.^ 

Some  hold  that  spoken  English  is  as  old  as  spoken  Sanscrit. 
Skeat  says  (Efym.  Did.,  p.  xiii.) :  ''  Sometimes  Sanscrit  is  said 
to  be  an  ^ elder  sister'  to  English;  the  word  ^ elder'  woukl  be 
better  omitted.  Sanscrit  has  doubtless  suffered  less  change,  but 
ev^en  twin-sisters  are  not  always  alike,  and,  in  the  course  of  many 
years,  one  may  come  to  look  younger  than  the  other." 

The  Anglo-Saxon  is  not  simply  the  prevailing  element  in  the 
present  English,  but  it  is  its  proper  basis  and  main  structure.  It 
supplies  the  essential  parts  of  speech,  the  article,  the  pronouns 

^  See  also  specimens  in  the  first  volume  of  Wilhelm  Wackernagel's 
Altdeidschcs  Lescbiich,  pp.  6-26,  with  a  dictionary,  and  in  Braune's  Gothic 
Grammar,  with  specimens  and  glossary,  translated  b}'  G.  H.  Balg.  New 
York,  AVestermann  &  Co.,  1883. 

2  Compare,  for  illustration,  the  following  table  which  I  borrow  from  an  article 
on  comparative  philology  by  B.  W.  D wight,  in  the  BihVwtheca  Sacra  for  1858, 
p.  119  :— 


Saxscp.it. 

Greek. 

Latix. 

Germax. 

ExGLisir. 

bhu,  io  he, 

oio), 

fui, 

bin. 

be. 

bhratar,  a  brother, 

opari/p^ 

frater, 

Bruder, 

brother. 

bhai,  to  hear. 

<ptpu, 

fero, 

baren, 

bear. 

ga,  to  go, 

fSaivo^ 

venio, 

gehen, 

go. 

go,  a  coic, 

,3olr, 

bos. 

Kuh, 

cow. 

hard,  the  heart. 

Kapch'a^ 

cor, 

Herz, 

heart. 

lubh,  to  desire. 

/u-rfG-dai^ 

libet, 

lieben. 

love. 

naman,  a  name, 

bvoua^ 

nomen, 

Name, 

name. 

path,  a  xcay. 

'jzarnq^ 

passus, 

Ptad, 

path. 

su,  to  scatter  ahoiit. 

GELEir, 

serere. 

saen. 

sow. 

stri,  to  strew, 

croptvvxmi^ 

sternere, 

streuen, 

strew. 

svadus,  srceet, 

I'lSir^ 

suavis. 

sUss, 

sweet. 

yayam,  you, 

ifit'ig, 

vos. 

euch, 

you. 

12  THE   ENGLISH   LAXGUAGE. 

— personal,  demonstrative,  relative,  and  interrogative — the  prepo- 
sitions, the  numerals,  the  auxiliary  verbs,  the  conjunctions,  and 
all  those  little  particles  which  bind  words  into  sentences  and 
form  the  joints,  sinews,  and  ligaments  of  the  language.  It  con- 
trols the  grammatical  inflections,  the  terminations  of  the  noun 
and  verb,  and  of  the  comparative  {-er)  and  superlative  {-est), 
and  the  entire  syntactic  structure.  It  makes  all  foreign  words 
bend  to  its  laws  of  declension  and  conjugation,  although  both 
have  been  considerably  simplified  and  abridged  in  consequence 
of  the  friction  with  other  elements.  "  The  Latin,^^  says  Trench, 
"  may  contribute  its  tale  of  bricks,  yea,  of  goodly  and  polished 
hewn  stones,  to  the  spiritual  building ;  but  the  mortar,  with  all 
that  holds  and  binds  these  together  and  constitutes  them  into  a 
house,  is  Saxon  throughout. ^^  Selden,  in  his  "  Table  Talk,'^ 
compares  the  Saxon  to  the  substance  of  a  cloak,  and  the  other 
elements  to  the  pieces  of  red,  blue,  green,  and  orange-tawny 
afterward  put  upon  it. 

As  to  the  vocabulary,  the  Saxon  portion  is  not  only  by  far  the 
largest,  but  furnishes  those  words  which  are  most  indispensable 
c*.i:l  most  frequently  used  in  all  the  ordinary  concerns  of  life 
and  which  express  the  essential,  intellectual,  and  moral  conditions, 
and  relations  ^f  man.  Thus  for  the  family  we  have  the  purely 
Saxon  words  :  house,  home,  kindred  (husband,^  wife^),  f^ither, 
mother,  child,  son,  daughter,  brother,  sister,  friend,  neighbor, 
boy,  girl,  maid,  youth,  man,  woman,  bride,  lord,  and  lady  f  for 

^  Auglo-Saxou  :  Jtushonda,  i.  c  ,  master  of  the  house  or  family.  The  ex- 
phmation  house-hand^  the  bond  c''  the  house,  as  beautifully  expressed  iu  the 
couplet, 

"'  The  name  of  the  hus'xmd  TS'hat  is  it  to  say? 
Of  wife  and  of  househ  >hl  the  hand  and  the  stay," 

must  be  given  up.  The  word  is  of  Sea  idinavian  origin,  and  corresponds  to 
the  Icelandic  hush6ndi,  a  contracted  foi  n  of  hilshdandi  or  huandi,  from  Jius, 
house,  and  pres.  part,  huatidi,  from  hiia,  '-o  dvrell,  inhabit.  Comp.  the  Ger- 
man Z/rt^  en,  7jrt«  cr  ;  Dutch,  JiOrr. 

2  The  Anglo-Saxon  wife  and  the  Germar  Weih  are  usually  derived  from  wcav- 
ing,  iroof,  v(h  (u-ehen),  one  of  the  earliest  and  most  ordinary  Ijranchcs  of 
female  industry'  and  in-door  employments.  Kluge  connects  it,  less  probably, 
with  the  Sanscrit  WIF,  insjjired,  imeardhj  moved  (of  priests)  because  the 
Germans  originally  honored  in  woman  "  sanctum  aliquid  ci providum.^'' 

3  Tlie  last  two  words  occur  in  no  other  Teutonic  language,  and  although 
undoubtedly  Saxon,   are  of  somewhat  doubtful   etymology.      The  common 


THE   ENGLISH   LANGUAGE.  13 

the  members  of  the  human  body  :  head,  eye,  ear,  nose,  hair, 
mouth,  tongue,  breast,  bosom,  heart,  arm,  hand,  finger,  foot,  bone, 
flesh,  and  blood;  for  the  faculties  and  actions  of  the  mind: 
soul,  feeling,  will,  understanding,  wit,  word,  speech,  deed 
(although  here  we  meet  with  a  number  of  Latin  words,  as  mind, 
reason,  intellect,  memory,  sense,  conscience,  imagination,  action); 
for  the  necessities  and  actions  of  daily  life:  food,  bread,  water, 
milk,  eat,  drink,  sit,  stand,  walk,  go,  come,  rest,  sleep,  dream, 
wake,  live,  and  die  ;  for  the  essential  affections  and  conditions: 
love,  hatred,  health,  sickness,  happiness,  woe,  mirth,  sorrow,  life, 
death,  grave ;  for  the  elements  and  common  objects  of  nature: 
earth,  land,  sea,  fire,  sun,  moon,  stars,  heaven,  wind,  storm, 
thunder,  light,  heat,  cold  ;  for  the  changes  in  the  day  and  sea- 
son :  day,  night,  morning,  noon,  evening,  spring,  summer,  fall, 
winter ;  for  the  domestic  animals  :  horse,  mare,  colt,  cow,  ox, 
steer,  calf,  sheep,  pig,  boar,  swine,  cat,  dog,  mouse,  deer ;  for  the 
chief  products  of  the  earth  and  the  main  instruments  of  culti- 
vating it :  wheat,  rye,  oats,  barley,  plow,  spade,  sickle,  flail. 

Most  of  the  onomatopoetic  or  sound-imitating  words  are  Saxon, 
as  bang,  buzz,  bellow,  break,  crash,  creak,  gurgle,  hiss,  hum, 
howl,  hollow,  murmur,  roar,  shriek,  snap,  snarl,  storm,  thunder, 
whistle,  whine,  tick-tick,  pee- wee,  bow-wow,  chit-chat,  sing-song. 
So  also  most  of  the  com[)ound  words,  as  god-man,  house-wife, 
key-stone,  north-east,  top-knot,  elm-tree,  pine- wood,  foot-fall, 
horse-shoe,  shoe-maker,  snuff-box,  morning-cloud,  water-fall. 
A  large  proportion  of  the  language  of  humor  and  colloquial 
pleasantry  point  to  the  same  source. 

Finally,  the  Saxon  furnishes  some  of  the  fundamental  terms 
in  morals  and  religion,  as  God,  good,  bad,  evil,  sin,  belief, 
love,  hope,  fear,  heaven,^  hell,  gospel  (i.  e.,  God^s  spell,  or  good 

derivation  of  lord  (A.  S.  hJdford)  from  Ji  Id f  or  loaf,  bread,  and  ford  or  a  ford — 
'bread-giver,  does  not  explain  ladij,  Avhicli  in  Saxon  is  ^vritten  hhifduje.  Tooke 
and  Richardson  derive  lord  from  Idif-ian,  to  raise,  and  ord — oriuH,  origin,  so  as 
to  mean  high-born.  Ladjj  would  then  mean  lifted,  elevated.  Bnt  the  A.  S.  hldf- 
ord  most  likely  stands  for  hldf-weard,  loaf-keeper,  i.  e.,  the  master  of  the  house, 
father  of  the  family,  and  is  etiuivalent  in  meaning  to  husband.     So  Skeat. 

^  Some  derive  heofon,  heaven,  from  A.S.  hebl)an,Germ'An  heben — elevated, arched. 
Kluge,  however,  connects  heaven  and  Himmel  and  derives  both  from  an  old 
Germanic  stem  hem,  him  ;  probably  connected  with  the  stem  ham,  to  cover,  conceal. 


14  THE   ENGLISH   LANGUAGE. 

news)/  righteousness,  holiness,  godliness.     On  the  other  hand, 
it  can  be  abused  for  the  hardest  swearing. 

The  Saxon  would  be  sufficient  for  all  the  ordinary  purposes 
of  life.  We  can  live  and  die,  love  and  hate,  work  and  play, 
laugh  and  cry,  tell  tales  and  sing  songs,  in  Saxon;  but  the 
foreign  elements  greatly  enrich  and  embellish  our  intellectual, 
emotional  and  spiritual  existence  and  enjoyments. 

THE  SAXON  ELEMENT  IN  THE  ENGLISH  BIBLE. 

One  of  the  chief  excellencies  of  our  Protestant  version  of  the 
Bible,  as  compared  with  the  Roman  Catholic  or  Douay  version, 
is  the  predominance  of  the  Saxon  element,  while  the  latter,  being 
based  upon  the  Latin  Vulgate,  employs  too  many  Latin  terms. 
The  idiom  of  the  Authorized  Aversion  of  1611  is  chiefly  due  to 
the  previous  labors  of  William  Tyndale,  who  first  translated  the 
New  Testament  from  the  original  Greek  into  English,  and  died 
a  martyr  of  his  immortal  work. 

Let  us  give  a  few  specimens.  In  the  Lord's  Prayer  fifty-four 
words  are  Saxon,  and  the  remaining  six,  which  are  of  Latin 
origin  (trespasses,  trespass,  temptation,  deliver,  power,  glory), 
could  easily  be  replaced  by  Saxon  (sins,  sin,  trial,  free,  might, 
brightness)  without  materially  altering  the  sense.  The  Douay 
Bible  has  for  daily  bread  super  substantial  bread  (from  the 
Vulgate),  which  the  common  reader  cannot  understand. 

In  the  sublime  beginning  of  the  Gospel  of  John,  from  verse 
1  to  14,  out  of  more  than  two  hundred  words  only  four  or  five 
are  not  of  Saxon  descent. 

The  most  exquisite  passages  of  the  Old  Testament  are  likewise 
almost  exclusively  Saxon. 

Take  the  first  verses  in  Genesis  : — 

"  In  the  beginning  G-od  created'^  (for  which  might  be  substituted  the 

Saxon  mat/f;)  "  the  heavens  and  the  earth And  God  said,  Let  there 

be  light :  and  there  was  light." 

^  The  exact  English  equivalent  for  the  Greek  £vayy(?uov.  For  this  reason  some 
prefer  the  derivation  of  the  first  syllable  from  the  adjective  ffood,  to  tlie  deriva- 
tion from  God  {GofFs  icord^  God^s  dory,  i.  c,  the  life  of  Christ),  l)ut  the  latter  is 
supported  by  the  analogy  of  the  Icelandic,  and  the  Old  High  German  (jotspell, 
{God-atonj)^  not  (juot-^pdl.     God  and  good,  however,  are  closely  connected. 


THE   ENGLISH   LANGUAGE.  15 

The  twenty -third  Psalm  would  lose  nothing  of  its  beauty  if 
the  few  Latin  terms  were  exchanged  for  Saxon,  as  follows : — 

"  The  Lord  is  my  sliephenl ;  I  shall  not  want.  He  maketh  me  to  lie 
down  in  green  j-)astu res  {meadoics)  :  he  leadeth  me  heside  the  still  waters. 
He  reMoMli  {qnichent'tli)  my  sonl :  he  leadeth  me  in  the  paths  of  righteous- 
ness for  his  name's  sake.  Yea.  though  I  walk  through  the  valley  [daJe] 
of  the  shadow  of  death,  I  will  fear  no  evil  :  for  thou  art  with  me  ;  thy  rod 
and  thy  staff  they  comfort  [i<trcngthen)  me.  Thow  j)reparest  {spreadest)  a 
table  ^  [hoard]  before  me  in  the^r^'^^^ce  {sight)  of  mine  enemies  {my  foes)  : 
thou  anointest  -  my  head  witli  oil ;  my  cup  ninneth  over  (is  overflowing). 
Surely  [Truly,  or  more  literally,  according  to  the  Hebrew,  Only)  goodness 
and  nunxy  {lore)  shall  follow  me  all  the  days  of  my  life  :  and  I  will  dwell 
in  the  house  of  the  Lord  forever. ' ' 

The  attempt  to  turn  the  whole  into  Latin  or  French  English 
w^ould  utterly  fail. 

Nor  could  you  improve  such  truly  Saxon  passages  as  these: — 

"  My  heart  is  smitten  and  withered  like  grass." 

"Thou  hast  delivered  [freed)  my  eyes  from  tears,  my  soul  from  death, 
and  my  feet  from  falling. ' ' 

"  Under  the  shadow  of  thy  wings  will  I  rejoice  (be  happy)." 

"  If  heart  and  flesh  fail,  thou  art  the  strength  of  my  heart  and  my  por- 
tion [lot)  for  ever." 

ILLUSTRATIONS  FEOM  SHAKESPEARE. 

It  is  the  Saxon  element  which  gives  the  chief  strength  to 
English  poetry.  AVe  select  a  few  passages  from  the  greatest  of 
all  dramatic  poets. 

In  the  following  quotation  from  the  Merchant  of  Venice  there 
are  only  three  French  words  in  fifty-five,  the  rest  all  Saxon : — 

"  All  that  glitters  is  not  gold 
Often  have  you  heard  that  told  : 
Many  a  man  his  life  hath  sold, 
But  my  outside  to  behold  : 
Guilded  tombs  do  worms  infold. 

^  This  corresponds  to  the  German  Tafd  as  well  as  the  Latin  tabula  ;  else 
the  Saxon  Jjoard  might  he  suhstituted  for  it. 

^  Literally /(;^/c«,  in  allusion  to  the  richness  and  abundance  of  the  unction  ; 
but  the  term  used  in  tlie  common  version  from  the  French  oindrc  and  the 
Latin  unguere  could  not  well  be  improved.  The  Saxon  smear,  would  here  be 
tasteless  and  vulgar,  and  salve  (A.  G.  sealf,  Goth,  salhon,  Ger.  salben)  would 
mean  to  heal  by  ointment. 


16  THE  ENGLISH   LANGUAGE. 

Had  you  been  as  wise  as  bold, 
Young  in  limbs,  in  judgment  old. 
Your  answer  had  not  been  inscrolled  : 
Fare  you  well ;  your  suit  is  cold." 

The  lines  put  into  the  mouth  of  Hamlet's  father,  unsurpassed 
for  terrific  beauty,  with  the  exception  of  Dante's  inscription  on 
the  gate  of  hell,  have  one  hundred  and  eight  Saxon  and  only 
fifteen  Latin  words  : — 

' '  I  am  thy  father' s  spirit 
Doomed  for  a  certain  term  to  walk  at  night ; 
And  for  the  day,  confined  in  flaming  fire. 
Till  the  foul  crimes^  done  in  my  days  of  nature^ 
Are  burned  and  purged  away.     But  that  I  am  forbid 
To  tell  the  secrets  of  m}'  x^rison  house, 
I  could  a  tale  unfold,  whose  lightest  word 
Would  harrow  up  thy  soul ;  freeze  thy  young  blood  ; 
Make  thy  two  eyes,  like  stars,  start  from  their  splieres ; 
Thy  knotted  and  combined  locks  to  part, 
And  each  particular  hair  to  stand  on  end, 
Like  quills  upon  the  fvativX  poixupine. 
But  this  eternal  blazon  must  not  be 
To  ears  of  flesh  and  blood.     List,  list,  0  list ! 
If  thou  didst  ever  thy  dear  f  itlier  love. 

THE  LATIN  ELEMENT. 

The  Latin  is  the  second  constituent  element  of  the  present 
English  language. 

^ye  must  carefully  distinguish  two  classes  of  Latin  words, 
those  which  are  directly  derived  from  the  old  Roman  language, 
and  those  which  are  indirectly  derived  from  it  through  the 
medium  of  the  French.  The  latter  can  generally  be  recognized 
at  once  by  the  traces  of  a  double  process  of  transformation 
through  which  they  have  passed  before  they  became  anglicized. 


ORIGINAL  LATINISMS. 

I.  The  first  class  or  the  pure  Latin  embraces  again  at  least 
three  distinct  subdivisions  corresponding  to  as  many  j)eriods  in 
the  history  of  the  language. 

(a)  The  oldest  Latin  terms  were  engrafted  upon  the  original 


THE   ENGLISH   LANGUAGE.  17 

Saxon  long  before  tlie  Norman  invasion,  through  the  influence 
mainly  of  the  Christian  Church,  which  was  established  among 
the  Anglo-Saxons  toward  the  close  of  the  sixth  century.^ 

They  relate  chiefly  to  ecclesiastical  affairs  and  have  found  their 
way  also  into  other  Germanic  dialects  with  the  introduction  of 
Christianity.  They  are  to  a  large  part  of  Greek  origin,  but  came 
to  the  Saxons  through  the  medium  of  the  Latin  Vulgate  and 
church  books.  Most  of  them  are  so  thoroui>:hlv  nationalized  as 
to  sound  like  native  words. 

To  the  Saxon  period  belong  saint  from  sanctus,  religion  from 
reJigio,  bishop  and  archbishop  from  episcopus  (from  the  Greek 
i-i<Ty.o~o^)  and  avGhiepiscopus,  priest  from  presbyter  ^  {-pe(7ii>'jTspn<;), 
deacon  from  dlaconus  (dcdy.o'^o?),  apostle,  angel  (likewise  originally 
Greek),  preach  (Saxon  prcecUeian,  Gavnmn  j)redige7i)  from  prcEdi- 
care,  prove  (profian)  from  probare,  minster  from  monasterium, 
cloister  from  claustrum,  master  from  magister,  monk  (munuc) 
from  monachus  (,a6>o?,  fxo>a/_(k),  porch  from portlcus,  provost  from 
pr<^positus,  pall  from  pallium,  candle  from  candela,  chalice  from 
calix,  mint  from  moneta,  psalter  from  psalterium  ((paX-rrjoto^),  mass 
from  missa  (dismissa  est  ecclesia),  palsy  from  paralysis  {i^'apdlucri^), 
alms  from  eleomosyna  (from  k'ho?),  abyss,  anathema,  anthem, 
antiphon,  cathedral,  character,  canon,  canonical,  catholic,  ecclesi- 
astic, laic,  school,  system,  Testament,  trinity,  unity;  perhaps  also 
the  stem  verbs  bib  from  bibere,  carp  from  carpere,  cede  from 
cedere  (or  the  French  ceder),  urge  from  urgere. 

(b)  The  second  class  of  Latinisms  are  theological  and  philo- 
sophical terms,  not  found  in  classical  nor  patristic  Latin,  and 
introduced  during  the  reign  of  scholasticism  in  the  middle  ages, 
as  real,  virtual,  entity,  nonentity,  equivocation,  beatitude,^  solil- 
oquy (the  last  two  being  first  used  by  St.  Augustin). 

^  A  few  Latin  terms  relating  mostly  to  military  afifairs,  as  xfrcef  from  strata, 
the  endings — coin  (as  in  Lincoln)  from  colonia, — ccstir  (as  in  GloucestLr — glevae 
cadra)  from  castra,  were  ah-eady  introduced  in  the  Celtic  jieriod  under  Caesar 
and  the  heathen  Eomans,  but  they  are  too  insignificant  to  be  regarded  as  a 
separate  class. 

2  Kather  than  from  j)/v'PN/r.'<',  which  would  not  account  for  the  second  /•  in 
the  German  Fricstcr  and  the  French  prctre.  Milton  says,  "  Presbyter  is  priest 
writ  large." 

^Cicero  coined  both  heat  Has  and  heatitudo  (Xat.  Dear.  1,  34,  95),  but  they 

2 


18  THE  ENGLISH   LANGUAGE. 

Dunce  and  dunceiy  are  likewise  from  the  scholastic  period, 
according  to  Trench  and  Skeat.  Duns  Scotus,  the  standard  di- 
vine of  the  Franciscans,  was  anything  but  a  blockhead ;  but  his 
name  may  have  been  used  reproachfully  by  the  rival  school  of 
Thorn ists  (the  Dominicans),  or  by  the  enemies  of  scholasticism. 
Most  of  the  sectarian  terms,  as  Arians,  Apollinarians,  Euty- 
chians,  Nestorians,  Pelagians,  Lutherans,  Zwinglians,  Puritans, 
Methodists,  etc.,  were  originally  terms  of  reproach  invented  by 
enemies. 

(c)  The  third  stratum  of  English  Latin  of  direct  derivation 
is  modern,  and  comprises  a  considerable  number  of  scientific  and 
technical  terms,  which  can  easily  be  distinguished  from  the  older 
importations  by  their  unaltered  condition,  the  language  having 
now  lost  to  a  great  extent  its  former  power  of  assimilation.  In 
these  cases  even  the  Latin  plural  is  generally  retained,  as  in  axis 
and  axes,  crisis  and  crises,  basis  and  bases,  formula  und  for mulce, 
calculus  and  calculi,  magus  and  magi,  colossus  and  colossi,  funda- 
mentum  and  fundamenta,  medium  and  media,  datum  and  data, 
momentum  and  momenta,  erratum  and  errata,  stratum  and  strata, 
index  and  indices,  radix  and  radices,  also  appendix,  ratio,  stimu- 
lus, emporium,  apparatus,  species,  series. 

In  the  same  class  we  may  embrace  Latin  phrases  which  have 
become  naturalized,  as  ab  ante,  ab  ovo,  ad  libitum,  ad  nauseam, 
a  posteriori,  a  priori,  cui  bono,  de  facto,  dejure,  ex-officio,  ex-parte, 
brutum  fulmen,  in  medias  res,  in  memoriam,  ipsissima  verba,  jure 
divino,  nil  admirari,  non  multa  sed  multum,  non  sequitur,  obiter 
dictum,  obsta  principiis,  otium  cum  dignitate,  tabula  rasa,  terra 
firma^  via  media,  vox  populi  vox  Dei. 

There  are  some  Latin  words  of  comparatively  recent  introduc- 
tion which  have  undergone  a  considerable  change  and  are  trans- 
formed into  the  English  idiom,  as  mob  from  mobile  (vulgus), 
which  was  introduced  in  the  reign  of  Charles  I. 

(d)  A  number  of  words  which  Latham  calls  di-morphic,  exist 
in  a  double  form,  the  original  Latin  and  the  French  Latin,  the 
latter  being  generally  cut  a  syllable  or  two  shorter,  and  often 

did  not  pass  into  usage  among  classical  writers  until  Augustin  naturalized 
heatitudo  {De  Civ.  Dei,  xxi.  17,  where  he  uses  the  plural  hcatitudinca).  So- 
liloquia  is  the  title  of  one  of  his  devotional  tracts. 


THE   ENGLISH   LANGUAGE.  19 

representing  a  different  shade  of  meaning,  as  pauper  and  poor 
(from  pauper  and  pauvre),  probe  and  prove  (from  prohare  and 
eprouver),  secure  and  sure  (from  securus  and  sur),  also  fidelity 
and  fealty,  species  and  spice,  blaspheme  and  blame,  granary  and 
garner,  hospital  and  hotel,  persecute  and  pursue,  faction  and 
fashion,  particle  and  parcel,  potion  and  poison,  redemption  and 
ransom,  tradition  and  treason.  We  may  add  presbyter  and 
priest,  monastery  and  minster;  but  priest  (Saxon  preost)  and 
minster  (Saxon  minister)  are  older  than  presbyter  and  monastery. 
In  a  fe\y  cases  the  substantive  was  borrowed  from  the  French, 
as  people  from  pteuple  (populus),  parish  from  paroisse  {parochia)  ; 
wdiile  at  a  later  period  the  corresponding  adjective  was  taken 
directly  from  the  Latin,  as  popular  and  parochial.  Bishop  and 
episcopal  or  episcopalian  (for  bishoply,  German  bischoflich)  are  an 
instance  of  a  double  formation  from  the  Latin. 

FRENCH  LATINIS:MS. 

11.  The  second  and  by  far  the  largest  class  of  Latin  words 
have  come  to  us  through  the  medium  of  the  Norman  French  or 
Romance,  which  itself  w^as  a  daughter  of  the  Latin,  with  a  num- 
ber of  Celtic  and  Teutonic  elements  incorporated  into  its  vocab- 
ulary. 

The  French  English  can  easily  be  distinguished  from  the  Latin 
English  by  the  spelling.  Thus  Saviour  comes  from  the  Latin 
Salvator,  but  through  the  French  Sauveur ;  honour  from  honor ^ 
through  honeur  ;  favour  from /a?;or,  through  faveur  ;  judgment 
from  judicium,  through  jugement ;  people  from  populus,  through 
peuple;  crown  from  corona,  through  couroniie ;  treasure  from 
thesaurus,  through  tresor  ;  emperor  from  imperutor,  through  em- 
pereur. 

Through  the  same  medium  we  have  received  arms,  armour, 
army,  navigation,  navy,  bachelor,  barber,  battery,  battle  {bataille, 
from  hatere,  to  beat),  beverage,  bullet,  calamity,  channel,  chant, 
chapel,  charity,  charm,  dainty,  dame  {domina),  fable,  fabric,  lan- 
guage, madam,  mademoiselle,  magistrate,  mansion,  merit,  prime, 
etc.,  etc. 

The  Normans  adopted,  with  the  Christian  religion,  the  lan- 
guage, laws,  and  arts  of  the  Romanized  Gauls  and  Romanized 


20  THE   ENGLISH   LANGUAGE. 

Franks,  or  rather  they  developed,  in  their  new  home,  a  national 
character  and  language  of  their  own,  which  differed  both  from 
that  of  their  rude  Scandinavian  kinsmen  on  the  shores  of  the 
North  Sea  and  the  Baltic,  and  from  that  of  the  original  Roman- 
esque provincials  on  the  banks  of  the  Seine. 

In  this  modified  shape  as  semi-civilized,  Romanized,  Frenchi- 
fied Normans,  after  a  residence  in  France  of  more  than  a  century 
and  a  half,  they  successfully  invaded  England  in  1066  under 
Duke  William  the  Conqueror,  who  had  a  slight  pretext  of  right 
to  the  English  crown  by  his  relationship  to  Edward  the  Con- 
fessor and  the  alleged  bequest  of  the  sovereignty  to  him  by  that 
king.  They  defeated  the  Saxons  in  the  battle  of  Hastings,  took 
possession  of  the  country,  gave  kings  to  the  throne,  knights  and 
nobles  to  the  estates,  judges  to  the  tribunals,  bishops  to  the 
church,  teachers  to  the  schools,  but  also  tyrants  to  the  peasantry, 
oppressors  to  the  burghers,  and  brought  untold  misery  upon  the 
people  of  England  for  several  generations. 

To  get  a  proper  view  of  the  extent  of  this  conquest  and  its 
effect,  we  must  dismiss  all  idea  of  the  present  England,  when  no 
such  thorough  transformation  could  take  place  by  any  foreign 
invasion,  owing  to  the  numerical  strength  and  high  grade  of 
civilization  to  which  it  has  long  since  attained. 

It  is  estimated  that  the  Saxon  population  at  the  time  of  the  con- 
quest amounted  to  about  a  million  and  a  half  or  two  millions,  of 
whom  more  than  a  hundred  thousand  were  destroyed  during  the 
cruel  and  despotic  reign  of  William  the  Conqueror.  Tlie  number 
of  Normans  who  emigrated  with  him  or  followed  during  his  reign 
and  that  of  the  next  successors,  can  hardly  be  less  than  from  two 
to  three  hundred  thousand  souls.  For  at  the  battle  of  Hastings 
alone  he  had  sixty  thousand  fighting  men.-^ 

The  Normans  had  the  advantage  in  point  of  education  and  po- 
sition. The  influence  of  their  lano;uao;e  was  favored  bv  the  use 
of  the  Latin  in  worship  and  among  the  learned,  and  more  directly 
by  the  English  possessions  in  France  and  the  frequent  wars  and 
intercourse  between  the  two  nations. 

^  See  the  particulars  in  Thierry's  "  Norman  Conqnost, "  TTallani's  "Middle 
Ages,"  Creasy's  "  Jiise  and  I'roj^ress  of  the  English  Constitution"  (eh.  v. 
and  vi,),  and  Freeman's  "History  of  the  Norman  Conquest." 


THE   ENGLISH   LANGUAGE.  21 

Yet  they  could  not  internally  conquer  the  stubborn  Saxon  ele- 
ment, but  were  even  more  influenced  by  it  in  the  course  of  time 
than  the  Saxons  were  by  them.  They  never  made  a  Norman- 
land  or  a  Xew  France  out  of  England.  Instead  of  converting 
the  Saxons  into  Frenchmen,  they  became  Englishmen  themselves, 
just  as  the  Xormans  had  become  Frenchmen  in  France,  and  the 
Goths  Spaniards  in  Spain.  Fortunately  for  the  future  destiny 
of  England  both  nationalities  were  yet  in  a  crude  and  semi- bar- 
barous condition,  and  hence  they  could  be  so  molded  and  assimi- 
lated as  to  constitute  at  last  a  new  nationality  which  is  neither 
Saxon  nor  Norman,  but  combines  the  excellencies  of  both. 

THE  GRADUAL  MINGLING  OF  THE  SAXON  AND  NORMAN. 

This  was  a  very  slow  process.  For  nearly  three  hundred  years 
the  two  languages  stood  in  hostile  antagonism,  or  rather  in  neutral 
indifference,  side  by  side  as  two  distinct  currents,  like  the  waters 
of  the  Monongahela  and  Alleghany  in  the  Oiiio  river,  or  the 
Missouri  and  Mississippi  after  their  junction  above  St.  Louis. 
The  Norman  was  spoken  by  the  lords  and  barons  in  their  feudal 
castles,  in  parliament,  in  the  courts  of  justice,  in  the  schools,  and 
on  the  chase ;  the  Saxon  by  the  people  in  their  rural  homes,  fields, 
and  workshops.  There  was  an  English  j^roverb  in  the  middle 
ages:  "Jack  would  be  a  gentleman  if  he  could  speak  French." 

Some  traces  of  the  distinct  existence  of  the  Norman  are  still 
preserved  in  those  technical  phrases  which  give  the  royal  assent 
to  the  different  laws  of  parliament,  as  "  La  reine  le  veut;  "  "  Solt 
fait  comme  il  est  desire  ;^^  ^^  La^  reine  remercie  ses  bons  sujets, 
accepte  leur  benevolence  et  ainsi  le  veut.'^  Cromwell  signed  the 
bills  in  plain  English,  but  the  Romanizing  Stuarts  characteristi- 
cally restored  these  vestiges  of  the  Norman  conquest. 

During  the  long  intellectual  winter  which  followed  the  Norman 
conquest  the  germ  of  a  new  and  nobler  nationality  and  language 
was  gradually  maturing  under  the  snow-covered  soil  for  a  vigorous 
and  prolific  growth  in  the  approaching  spring.  The  profound 
truth  of  the  Word,  "  That  which  is  sown  is  not  quickened 
except  it  die,"  is  applicable  also  in  this  case.  The  Saxon  and 
Norman,  together  with  the  remaining  Celtic  and  Danish  ele- 
ments, slowly  melted  and   coalesced  into  a  harmonious  whole, 


22  THE   ENGLISH   LANGUAGE. 

and  came  out  of  the  process  a  new  and  better  race  than  any  that 
preceded  it.  The  Saxon  gave  up  a  part  of  his  vocabulary,  the 
Norman  a  part  of  his  together  with  all  his  grammar,  and  the 
result  was  the  English  language  with  its  meagre  but  simple  sys- 
tem of  grammatical  inflection  and  its  rich  vocabulary. 

This  process  was  completed  in  the  fourteenth  century.  The 
commencement  of  the  English  (that  is,  Normanized  Saxon)  lan- 
guage and  literature  coincides  with  a  reformatory  national  move- 
ment which,  although  suppressed  for  several  generations,  tri- 
umphed at  last  under  a  modified  form  in  the  sixteenth  century. 
Wyclifle,  by  his  translation  of  the  Latin  Bible  in  1380,  is  the 
father  of  English  prose,  as  his  sympathizing  contemporary, 
Chaucer,  by  his  "  Canterbury  Tales,"  is  the  father  of  English 
poetry.-^ 

In  the  same  age  Edward  III.  ordered,  in  1362,  the  pleadings 
of  the  court  to  be  carried  on  in  English  instead  of  French. 
But  the  first  bill  of  the  lower  house  of  Parliament  in  the 
English  language  dates  from  1425.  Since  that  time  the  lan- 
guage has,  of  course,  undergone  considerable  changes,  so  that 
the  writings  before  the  Reformation  cannot  be  fully  understood 
now  without  the  help  of  a  glossary.  Yet  in  all  the  essential 
features  it  is  the  same.  The  groundwork  of  the  new  language 
remained  Saxon.  But  the  Norman  disturbed  its  inflections, 
articulation,  and  pronunciation,  simplified  its  syntax  and  en- 
riched its  vocabulary,  although  the  gain  in  this  respect  was 
partly  neutralized  by  the  loss  of  corresponding  terms. 

The  change  introduced  into  the  vocabulary  may  be  illustrated 
by  the  following  two  paragraphs  which  exhibit  successively  the 
Norman  and  Saxon  elements  :  ^ 

1  Coleridge  calls  Chaucer  the  "  myriad-minded,"  and  Marsh  places  liim  as 
to  original  power  and  all  the  highest  qualities  of  poetry  above  all  contempo- 
rary writers  with  the  single  exception  of  Bante.  *'  He  is  eminently,"  (says 
he,  Ledurcti,  p.  22),  "the  creator  of  our  literary  dialect,  the  introducer,  if  not 
the  inventor,  of  some  of  our  poetical  forms."  The  more  it  is  to  be  regretted 
that  many  of  his  works  are  disfigured,  stained,  and  polluted  by  a  grossness 
of  thought  and  of  language  which  strangely  and  painfully  contrasts  with  the 
delicacy,  refinement,  and  moral  elevation  of  his  other  productions. 

2  This  illustration  is  borrowed  mainly  from  Prof  Scheie  de  Vere's  "  Out- 
lines of  Comparative  Fhilology.''''     New  York,  1853. 


THE   ENGLISH  LANGUAGE.  23 

' '  With  the  Norman  conquest  tlie  French  was  introduced  in  the  higher 
circles;  the  King  alone  retained  his  name,  but  the  state  and  the  court 
became  French  ;  the  administration  v^-a^  carried  on  according  to  the  con- 
stitution ;  treaties  were  concluded  by  the  ministersm  their  cabinet  and  s?/Z>- 
m  it  ted  for  approved  to  the  sovereign ;  the  p?Ti*]/  council  was  consulted  on 
tlie  ((ffairs  of  the  empire,  and  A>^a?  subjects  sent  representatives  to  parlia- 
ment.  Here  the  members  debated  on  matters  of  grave  importance,  on  peace 
and  ?r(7/',  ordered  the  a?'?«^  and  the  ??(7zvy,  oV,s;po.s«Z  of  the  national  treasunj, 
contracted  debts,  and  had  their  sessions  and  their  parties.  Brilliant  feasts 
and  splendid  tournaments  collected  the  flower  of  chivahy  ;  magnificent 
balls  where  beauty  and  delicious  music  enchanted  the  assembled  nobles,  gave 
new  splendor  to  society,  polished  the  memners  and  excited  the  admiration 
of  tlie  ancient  inhabitants,  who,  charmed  by  such  elegance,  recognized  in 
their  conquerors  p)ersons  of  superior  intelligence,  admired  them,  and  e/i- 
deavored  to  imitate  theiv  fashions.'^ 

' '  But — to  continue  this  illustration  in  Saxon — the  dominion  of  the  Nor- 
man (//(Z  not  extend  to  the  Ao??i6  of  the  Saxon  ;  it  stopped  at  the  threshold 
of  his  house;  there,  around  the  fireside  in  his  h'itchen  and  the  hearth  in  his 
room,  he  7??e^  his  beloved  kindred ;  the  Z^/vVZe,  the  ^v/e,  and  the  husband, 
sons  and  daughters,  brothers  and  sisters,  tied  to  each  o^'Ae?*  by  /oi-e,  friend- 
ship, and  kind  feelings,  knew  nothing  dearer  than  their  own  s?rec^  /io?«e. 
The  Saxon's  ^t>c/i,  still  grazing  in  his  7?e/(7.s  and  meadows,  ^are  him  ?n<7yt 
and  hitter,  meat  and  wool ;  the  herdsman  icatched  them  in  spring  and 
summer,  the  ploughman  drew  his  furrows,  and  used  his  harrows,  and  in 
harvest,  the  c<7r^  and  the  fiail ;  the  reaper  plied  his  scythe,  piled  u])  sheaves 
and  hauled  his  wheat,  oats,  and  ?;?/e  to  the  ?>«?•«.  In  his  ^racZe  by  ?«»<:? 
and  sea,  he  still  so/cZ  and  bought,  m  the  s^ore  or  the  sAop,  the  market  or 
thes^ree^;  he  Zf';«^  or  bori'owed,  trusted  his  neighbor,  and  with  skill  throve 
and  grew  icecdthy.  He  continued  to  love  freedom,  to  ea^  and  to  drink,  to 
sZeep  and  to  aweike,  to  -zcdZA:  and  to  ride,  to  fish  and  to  ^?«i/,  to  sing  and  to 
pZ«^,  to  read  and  to  «67'<Ve,  to  think  and  to  /eeZ,  to  speak  and  to  cZo,  to  live 
and  to  cZi'e. ' ' 

THE  RELATION  OF  THE  NORMAN  AND  SAXON  ELEMENTS. 

The  Norman  French  imparted  to  the  English  nearly  all  the 
terms  connected  with  the  feudal  system,  as  sovereign,  prince, 
duke,  marquis,  count,  viscount,  baron,  chancellor,  treasurer,  tour- 
nament, challenge,  throne,  sceptre,  empire,  realm,  royalty,  chiv- 
alry, domain,  homage,  villain,  palace,  castle  ;  with  the  exception, 
however,  of  king  and  queen,  lord  and  lady,  which  are  Saxon, 
and  earl,  which  is  Scandinavian.  The  reason  of  this  exception 
lies  in  the  historical  fact  that  the  Xorman  conqueror  claimed  the 


24  THE   ENGLISH   LANGUAGE. 

throne  of  England  not  by  a  new  title  but  by  the  regular  line  of 
succession. 

The  French  furnished  also  the  terras  of  government  and  law, 
as  state,  government,  honor,  dignity,  office,  parliament,  constitu- 
tion, administration,  privy  council,  treaty,  court,  warrant,  esquire. 
But  the  word  law  itself  is  derived  neither  from  lex  nor  hi,  but 
from  the  Saxon  verb  lecgaUy  to  lie  down,  or  more  directly  from 
its  passive  participle  lagu,  pronounced  laugu,  laid  down,  fixed, 
like  statute  from  statuere,  and  Gesetz  from  setzen. 

Several  important  military  terms,  as  army,  navy,  peace,  war, 
and  names  for  the  articles  of  luxury  and  ornament  are  likewise 
Norman.  But  the  instruments  of  agriculture  are  called  in  true 
Saxon,  plough,  share,  rake,  scythe,  sickle,  spade  ;  so  are  also  the 
chief  products  of  the  earth,  as  wheat,  rye,  corn,  oats,  grass,  hay, 
flax. 

It  is  characteristic  that  the  truly  Saxon  names  of  living  ani- 
mals, as  ox,  steer,  cow,  calf,  sheep,  hog,  deer,  when  killed  and 
prepared  for  the  table  are  changed  into  French,  as  beef,  veal, 
mutton,  pork,  and  venison.  Even  to  this  day  French  cookery 
retains  the  ascendency  in  fashionable  hotels  and  restaurants  all 
over  the  world. 

The  names  of  common  and  indispensable  articles  of  dress  are 
Saxon,  as  shirt,  breeches,  hose,  shoes,  hat,  cloak ;  but  articles  of 
a  later  form  of  civilization  and  subject  to  the  changes  of  fashion 
are  Norman,  as  gown,  coat,  boots,  mantle,  cap,  bonnet. 

The  common  residence  for  all  men  is  signified  by  the  Saxon 
terms,  house,  and  home;  while  the  aristocratic  residences  of  the 
few  are  named  with  the  French  terms,  palace,  castle,  manor, 
mansion.  From  the  Saxon  we  have  "  room  "  and  ^'  kitchen,'' 
with  the  necessary  articles  of  furniture,  as  stool,  bench,  bed, 
board;  but  the  French  gave  us  chambers,  parlors,  galleries, 
pantries,  laundries,  with  tables,  chairs,  and  couches. 

The  Latin  gives  us  often  the  general  term,  as  color,  while  the 
Saxon  furnishes  the  concrete  or  particular  terms,  as  white,  black, 
green,  red,  blue.  The  one  giv^es  the  more  elegant  and  dignified, 
the  other  the  more  homely,  but  stronger  expression,  as  sweat 
for  perspiration,  stench  for  bad  odor,  smear  for  anoint. 


THE   ENGLISH   LANGUAGE.  25 

It  may  be  said,  therefore,  that  the  Norman  represents  the 
aristocratic,  the  Saxon  the  democratic  element  in  the  English 
langnage.  The  former  supplied,  as  Grimm  says,  "the  spiritual 
conceptions ;"  while  the  latter  forms  the  material  groundwork, 
and  also  the  top  (remember  the  words  king  and  queen).  The 
reason  of  this  is  not  the  incapacity  of  the  Saxon,  but  the  higher 
education  and  acquired  dominion  of  the  Xormans.  The  French 
infused  into  the  English  a  higher  degree  of  intellectuality, 
vivacity,  gravity  and  dignity,  and  enriched  its  vocabulary  of 
chivalry,  courtesy  and  fashion. 

Archbishop  Whateley,  in  his  "  Elements  of  Rhetoric,'^  makes 
the  true  remark  "  that  a  style  composed  chiefly  of  words  of 
French  origin,  while  it  is  less  intellicrible  to  the  lowest  classes, 
is  characteristic  of  those  who  in  cultivation  of  taste  are  below 
the  highest.  As  in  dress,  furniture,  deportment,  etc.,  so  also  in 
language,  the  dread  of  vulgarity  constantly  besetting  those  who 
are  half  conscious  that  they  are  in  danger  of  it  drives  them  into 
the  extreme  of  affected  finery. '^ 

The  English  is  a  happy  medium  between  the  French  and 
German,  more  grave  and  forcible  than  the  French,  less  harsh 
and  cumbersome  than  the  German,  and  simpler  in  grammar, 
more  easily  acquired  and  handled  than  either. 


ILLUSTRATIONS  FK0:M  MILTON  AND  WEBSTER. 

Milton  is  generally  considered  as  the  greatest  master  of  the 
Latin  element  among  the  English  poets  (as  Shakespeare  certainly 
is  the  prince  of  the  Saxon  element) ;  yet  in  his  speech  for  a  free 
press  he  severely  reproves  authors  who  are  "apishly  Romaniz- 
ing, and  whose  learned  pens  can  cast  no  ink  without  Latin.'' 
Charles  James  Fox,  the  great  English  orator,  goes  too  far  when 
he  says  :  "  Give  me  an  elegant  Latin  and  a  homely  Saxon 
word,  and  I  will  always  choose  the  latter.''  The  preference 
given  to  the  one  or  the  other  should  depend  upon  the  nature  of 
tlie  subject  and  proper  regard  to  the  beauty,  harmony  and 
euphony  of  speech.  The  Saxon  has  always  the  advantage  of 
force  and  expressiveness,  but  the  Latin  supplies  the  element  of 
dignity  and  melody.     We  may  say  with  Coleridge  that  Milton's 


26  THE   ENGLISH   LANGUAGE. 

Latin  gives  '^  a  stately  march  and  majestic,  organ-like  harmony" 
to  his  diction. 

Take  for  illustration  his  impressive  sonnet  on  the  persecution 
of  the  Waldenses  in  Piedmont : — 

' '  Avenge,  0  Lord,  thy  slaughtered  saints,  whose  bones 
Lie  scattered  on  the  Alpine  mountains  cold, 
Even  them  who  kept  thy  truth  so  pure  of  old. 
When  all  our  fathers  worshipped  stocks  and  stones. ' ' 

Or  his  sublime  Nativity  Hymn  : — 

"  This  is  the  month  and  this  the  happy  morn, 
Wherein  the  Son  of  heaven's  eternal  King, 
Of  wedded  maid  and  Virgin  Mother  horn, 
Our  great  redemption  from  above  did  bring. ' ' 

Gibbon  is  the  most  Latinizing  of  English  historians.  The 
stately  march  of  his  artfully  constructed  and  well-rounded  sen- 
tences suits  his  grand  subject,  the  decline  and  fall  of  the  Roman 
Empire,  but  it  becomes  as  monotonous  as  a  military  procession. 

Daniel  AVebster,  the  most  majestic  orator  that  America  has 
produced,  was  a  close  student  of  the  English  Bible  and  John 
Milton.  The  prose  of  the  American  Demosthenes  blends 
Saxon  strength  and  Latin  dignity  in  beautiful  harmony.  Take 
the  following  classic  passages  from  three  of  his  most  celebrated 
speeches.  The  proportion  of  Latin  words  to  Saxon  in  these 
specimens  is  fully  one-third. 

The  first  is  his  definition  of  true  patriotic  eloquence,  from  his 
eulogy  on  Adams  and  Jefferson,  delivered  in  Faneuil  Hall, 
Boston,  August  2d,  1826  :— 

' '  When  public  bodies  are  to  be  addressed  on  momentous  occasions, 
when  great  interests  are  at  stake,  and  strong  passions  excited,  nothing 
is  valuable  in  speech  farther  than  it  is  connected  with  high  intellectual  and 
moral  endowments.  Clearness,  force,  and  earnestness  are  the  quahties 
which  produce  conviction.  True  eloquence,  indeed,  does  not  consist  in 
speech.  It  cannot  be  brought  from  far.  Labor  and  learning  may  toil  for 
it,  but  they  will  toil  in  vain.  Words  and  phrases  may  be  marshaled  in 
every  way,  but  they  cannot  compass  it.  It  must  exist  in  the  man,  in  tlie 
subject,  in  the  occasion.  Affected  passion,  intense  expression,  the  pomp 
of  declamation,  all  may  aspire  to  it ;  they  cannot  reacli  it.  It  comes,  if  it 
come  at  all,  like  tlie  outbreaking  of  a  fountain  from  the  earth,  or  the 
bursting  forth  of  volcanic  fires,  with  spontaneous,  original,  native  force. 
The  graces  taught  in  the  schools,  the  costly  ornaments  and  stutlieil  contri- 


THE   ENGLISH   LANGUAGE.  27 

vances  of  speech  shock  and  disgust  men,  when  their  own  lives,  and  the 
fate  of  their  wives,  tlieir  children,  and  their  country  hang  on  the  decision 
of  the  hour.  Then  words  have  lost  their  power,  rhetoric  is  in  vain,  and 
all  elaborate  oratorj-  contemi)tible.  Even  genius  itself  then  feels  rebuked 
and  subdued,  as  in  the  in-esence  of  higher  qualities.  Then  patriotism  is 
eloquent ;  then  self-devotion  is  eloquent.  The  clear  conception,  outrun- 
ning the  deductions  of  logic,  the  high  purpose,  the  firm  resolve,  the 
dauntless  spirit,  speaking  on  the  tongue,  beaming  from  the  eye,  informing 
every  feature,  and  urging  the  whole  man  onward,  right  onward  to  his  sub- 
ject,— this,  this  is  eloquence  ;  or  rather  it  is  something  greater  and  higher 
than  all  eloquence,  it  is  action,  noble,  sublime,  godlike  action." 

The  second  specimen  is  the  peroration  of  his  national  and 
patriotic  anti-nullification  speech  against  Colonel  Robert  Y. 
Hayne,  delivered  in  the  United  States  Senate,  January  26th, 
1830.  Edward  Everett  pronounced  it  the  most  celebrated 
speech  ever  delivered  in  Congress,  and  I  doubt  whether  any  of 
the  grand  effusions  of  the  elder  or  the  younger  Pitt,  of  Burke, 
Fox,  or  Brougham  in  the  British  Parliament  are  superior  to  it. 

"While  the  Union  lasts,  we  have  high,  exciting,  gratif3dng  prospects 
spread  out  before  us,  for  us  and  our  children.  Beyond  that  I  seek  not  to 
penetrate  the  veil.  God  grant  that  in  my  day,  at  least,  that  curtain  may 
not  rise  !  God  grant  that  on  my  vision  never  may  be  opened  what  lies 
behind  !  AVhen  my  eyes  shall  be  turned  to  behold,  for  the  last  time,  the 
sun  in  heaven,  may  I  not  see  him  shining  on  the  broken  and  dishonored 
fragments  of  a  once  glorious  Union  ;  on  States  dissevered,  discordant,  bel- 
ligerent ;  on  a  land  rent  with  civil  feuds,  or  drenched,  it  may  be,  in  frater- 
nal blood  !  Let  their  last  feeble  and  lingering  glance  rather  behold  the 
gorgeous  ensign  of  the  Republic,  now  known  and  honored  throughout  the 
earth,  still  full"  high  advanced,  its  arms  and  trophies  streaming  in  their 
original  lustre, '  not  a  stripe  erased  or  polluted,  not  a  single  star  obscured, 

'  An  evident  reminiscence  from  his  fovorite  author,  Milton,  in  his  descrip- 
tion of  the  imperial  banner  of  hell,  Paradise  Lost,  Book  I. ,  v.  535,  s.  99  : — 

"  Who  forthwith  from  the  glittering  staff  unfurl'd 
Th'  imperial  ensign,  which,  full  liujh  advanchl, 
Shone  like  a  meteor,  streaming  to  the  wind, 
With  gems  and  golden  lustre  rich  eml)laz'd, 
Seraphic  arms  and  tropJii(S ;  all  the  while 
Sonorous  metal  blowiug  martial  sounds  ; 
At  which  the  universal  host  up  sent 
A  shout  that  tore  hell's  concave,  and  beyond 
Frighted  the  reign  of  Chaos  and  Old  Night." 

In  Bk.  v.,  598,  ^Slilton  speaks  of  "  ten  thousand  thousand  ensigns  Jiigh  ad- 
vanced .   .   .  stream  in  the  ci\Y.'^ 

This  description  again  was  probably  suggested  by  Tasso's  description  of 
the  banner  of  the  Crusaders,  when  first  unfolded  in  Palestine. 


28  THE   ENGLISH   LANGUAGE. 

bearing  for  its  motto  no  such  miserable  interrogatory  as,  '  What  is  all  this 
worth  ?'  nor  those  other  words  of  delusion  and  folly,  ''Ldherty  first  and 
Union  afterward;'  but  everywhere,  spread  all  over  in  characters  of  living 
light,  blazing  on  all  its  ample  folds,  as  they  float  over  the  sea  and  over  the 
land,  and  in  every  wind  under  the  whole  heavens,  that  other  sentiment, 
dear  to  every  true  American  heart,  Liberty  and  Union^  now  and  forever^ 
one  and  inseparable. ' ' 

This  passage  uttered  thirty  years  before  the  civil  war,  sounds 
like  a  prophecy  of  that  event,  which  Webster  would  gladly  have 
prevented  as  the  direst  calamity,  but  we  have  lived  to  see  it  over- 
ruled by  divine  Providence  for  stronger  union  and  larger  liberty 
built  upon  the  ruins  of  secession  and  slavery. 

In  the  same  speech  occurs  that  magnificent  eulogy  on  Massa- 
chusetts, which  is  unsurpassed  in  its  kind  : — 

' '  Mr.  President,  I  shall  enter  on  no  encomium  upon  Massachusetts — 
she  needs  none.  There  she  is — behold  her,  and  judge  for  yourselves. 
There  is  her  history  :  the  world  knows  it  by  heart.  The  past,  at  least,  is 
secure.  There  is  Boston,  and  Concord,  and  Lexington,  and  Bunker  Hill 
— and  there  they  will  remain  forever.  The  bones  of  her  sons,  falling  in 
the  great  struggle  for  independence,  now  lie  mingled  with  the  soil  of  every 
State  ;  and  there  they  will  lie  forever.  And,  Sir,  where  American  liberty 
raised  its  first  voice,  and  wdiere  its  youth  was  nurtured  and  sustained,  there 
it  still  lives,  in  the  strength  of  its  manhood  and  full  of  its  original  spirit. 
If  discord  and  disunion  shall  wound  it  ...  it  will  stand,  in  the  end, 
by  the  side  of  that  cradle  in  which  its  infancy  was  rocked  .  .  .  ;  and 
it  will  fall  at  last,  if  fall  it  must,  amidst  tlie  proudest  monuments  of  its 
own  glory,  and  on  the  very  spot  of  its  origin. 

The  third  example  is  the  conclusion  of  Webster's  second  great 
anti-nullification  speech,  delivered  in  tiie  United  States  Senate, 
February  16, 1833,  against  John  C.  Calhoun,  the  able  and  honest 
arch-uuUifier,  and  in  favor  of  the  Force-Bill  authorizing  Presi- 
dent Jackson  to  employ  the  United  States  military  power,  if 
necessary,  for  the  collection  of  duties  on  imports  in  South  Caro- 
lina, then  in  an  attitude  of  open  rebellion  against  the  federal 
government.  It  is  only  inferior  in  eloquence  to  the  peroration 
in  the  anti-Hayne  speech,  and  equally  patriotic: — 

"Mr.  President,  if  the  friends  of  nullification  should  be  able  to  propagate 
tlieir  opinions,  and  give  them  practical  effect,  they  would,  in  my  judgment, 
I)rove  themselves  the  most  skillful  architects  of  ruin,  the  most  effectual 
extinguishers  of  high-raised  expectation,  the  greatest  blasters  of  human 


THE   ENGLISH   LANGUAGE.  29 

hopes,  which  any  age  has  produced.  They  would  stand  up  to  proclaim,  in 
tones  which  would  pierce  the  ears  of  half  the  human  race,  that  the  last 
great  experiment  of  representative  government  had  failed.  They  would 
send  forth  sounds,  at  the  hearing  of  which  the  doctrine  of  the  divine  right 
of  kings  would  feel,  even  in  its  grave,  a  returning  sensation  of  vitality  and 
resuscitation.  Millions  of  eyes  of  those  who  now  feed  their  inherent  love 
of  liberty  on  the  success  of  the  American  example,  would  turn  away  from 
beholding  our  dismemberment,  and  find  no  place  on  earth  whereon  to  rest 
their  gratified  sight.  Amidst  the  incantations  and  orgies  of  nullification, 
secession,  disunion,  and  revolution,  would  be  celebrated  the  funeral  rites  of 
constitutional  and  republican  liberty. ' ' 


THE  OTHER  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  ENGLISH  LANGUAGE. 

Besides  the  Germanic  and  Romanic  which  constitute  the  body 
of  the  present  English  tongue,  several  other  languages  have 
furnished  contributions.  These  are,  however,  far  less  numerous 
and  important,  and  enter  more  or  less  into  the  composition  of 
other  modern  languages  of  Europe.  Each  language  has  con- 
tributed such  terms  as  express  the  leading  ideas  and  principal 
strength  of  the  respective  nations.  From  the  Hebrew  we  have 
religious;  from  the  Greek,  scientific,  philosophical  and  artistic; 
from  the  Italian,  musical  terms. 

Among  these  additional  contributory  streams  we  mention 
first — 

THE  CELTIC  ELEMENT. 

This  is  properly  the  oldest,  since  the  Britons,  a  branch  of  the 
Celtic  nationality,  were  the  original  inhabitants  of  England  at 
the  time  of  Csesar^s  invasion.  Their  memory  is  continued  in 
the  name  of  Great  Britain.  The  Celtic  idiom  is  still  spoken  in 
two  dialects,  the  Welsh  in  Wales,  and  the  Gaelic  in  Ireland  and 
the  Highlands  of  Scotland  (Irish  Gaelic  and  Scotch  Gaelic). 
But  owing  to  the  complete  subjection  of  the  Britons  by  the 
Anglo-Saxons  and  the  irreconcilable  national  antagonism  of  the 
two  races,  as  well  as  owincr  to  the  fact  that  the  Celtic  has  less 
vitality  and  power  of  resistance  than  any  other  European 
language,  there  are  comparatively  very  few  Celtic  words  in  the 
English,  and  those  few  belong  mostly  to  servile  life. 

Take  the  following  characteristic  specimens :  basket  (Welsh 
basged,  bascaid),  button  (botwm),  bran,  cobble,  crockery,  crook, 


30  THE   ENGLISH   LANGUAGE. 

flaw,  funnel,  grid,  gruel,  mattock,  wicket,  wire,  rail,  rug,  tackle ; 
also  babe,  cradle,  bad,  bald,  bump,  bugbear,  cart,  char,  dock, 
drudge,  druid,  bard,  clan,  plaid,  gown,  griddle,  lad,  lass,  pat, 
pet,  pretty,  prop,  puddle. 

A  number  of  proper  names  are  Celtic,  as  Thames,  Kent,  and 
probably  also  London — i.  e.,  "city  of  ships."  The  last  sounds 
like  a  prophecy  from  pre-Roman  times  of  the  future  importance 
of  the  commercial  metropolis  of  the  world,  where — 

"  Tausend  Schijfe  Janden  an  und  geJien  ; 
Da  ist  aUes  Ilerrliche  zu  sehen^ 
Und  es  herrscht  der  Erde  Gott^  das  Geld.'" 

The  Celtic  element  may  be  compared  to  the  Indian  in  our 
American  English. 

THE  DANISH  OR  NORSE  (ICELANDIC)  ELEMENT. 

This  dates  from  the  Danish  piratical  invasions  in  the  ninth 
and  tenth  centuries.  But  as  the  Scandinavian  dialects  belong  to 
the  Germanic  stock,  many  words  supposed  to  be  from  that 
source  are  Germanic,  and  probably  belonged  to  the  original 
Anglo-Saxon. 

We  mention  as  specimens :  aloft  (compare  the  German  Lufty 
Ivflig),  already,  anger,  askew,  awe,  awn,  aye,  baffle,  bang,  bark, 
bawl,  beach,  blunder,  blunt,  boulder,  box,  bulk,  bulwark,  cast, 
club,  crash  (German,  krachen)^  dairy,  dastard,  dazzle,  fellow, 
gabble,  gain,  gjade,  ill,  jabber,  jam,  kidnap,  kidney,  kill,  kneel, 
limber,  litter,  loft,  log,  lug,  lull,  lumber,  lump,  lunch,  lurch, 
lurk,  mast,  mistake,  mistrust,  nab,  nag,  nasty,  niggard,  horse, 
plough  (Pflug),  raft,  ransack,  rug,  rump,  saga,  sale,  scald,  shriek, 
shrill,  skin,  skull,  sledge,  sleigh,  sled,  tackle,  tangle,  tipple,  tipsy, 
trust,  Valhalla,  viking,  window,  wing. 

The  ending  -by,  wliich  signifies  town,  is  Norse,  and  occurs  in 
many  proper  names  of  towns  and  villages,  as  Hornby,  Naseby, 
Whitby,  Derby,  Appleby,  Netherby.  In  Lincolnshire,  one  of 
the  chief  resorts  of  Danish  immigration,  nearly  one-fourth  of 
the  towns  and  villages  have  this  ending,  while  in  Hampshire  it 
is  unknown.  The  names  of  the  Islands  in  the  English  Chan- 
nel, Jersey,  Guernsey  and  Alderney,  by  their  ending  cij,  which 


THE   ENGLISH   LANGUAGE.  31 

means  island  (as  in  Orkney),  betray  likewise  Scandinavian 
descent,  although  probably  through  the  medium  of  the  Normans 
who  imported  a  number  of  other  Nor^e  terms  to  the  banks  of 
the  Seine.  Most  of  the  Danish  words  are  provincial  and  con- 
fined to  the  northern  and  north-eastern  counties,  which  were 
exposed  most  to  Danish  invasion. 

HEBREW  WORDS. 
From  the  Hebrew  we  have,  besides  a  large  number  of  signifi- 
cant proper  names  from  Adam  and  Eve  down  to  Jesus,  John  and 
Mary,  several  religious  terms  which  passed  into  the  Septuagint 
and  Greek  Testament,  then  into  the  Latin  Vulgate,  and  were 
properly  retained  by  the  English  translators  of  the  Bible,  as 
Jehovah  Zebaoth  (plural :  hosts),  Messiah,  rabbi,  hallelujah, 
hosannah,  cherub,  seraph  (with  the  Hebrew  plurals  cherubim 
and  seraphim),  ephod,  Gehenna  (Hell,  the  place  of  torment), 
Sheol  (Hades,  the  unseen  spirit-world),  jubilee,  manna,  maranatha, 
pascha,  sabbath,  sanhedrin,  Satan,  shekinah,  shibboleth,  Amen. 

GREEK   WORDS. 

The  noble  and  rich  Greek  language  has  supplied  the  English 
as  well  as  other  European  languages  with  nearly  all  the  technical 
names  for  the  various  branches  of  learning  and  art,  from  the 
alphabet  up  to  the  highest  regions  of  metaphysical  and  theo- 
logical speculation,  as  theology,  with  its  subdivisions  of  exegesis, 
archseology,  hermeneutics,  apologetics,  polemics,  symbolics,  dog- 
matics, ethics,  homiletics,  catechetics,  etc. ;  philoso})hy,  with 
logic,  anthropology,  psychology,  a3sthetics,  metaphysics,  etc. ; 
grammar,  rhetoric,  philology,  history,  mathematics,  arithmetic, 
astronomy,  anatomy,  calligraphy,  geography,  orthography, 
stenography,  physiology,  pathology;  architecture,  music  and 
poetry;  also  with  a  considerable  number  of  indispensable  politi- 
cal terms,  as  monarchy,  oligarchy,  theocracy,  aristocracy,  democ- 
racy, anarchy,  j)olicy. 

Of  miscellaneous  words  which  point  to  the  same  source  we 
may  mention :  architect,  poet,  pedagogue,  cosmopolite,  hero, 
sophist,  apocalypse,  analogy,  anomaly,  antagonism,  apathy,  antip- 
athy, sympathy,  anthem,  euphony,  harmony,  melody,  psalmody, 


32  THE  ENGLISH   LANGUAGE. 

hymn  and  hymnology,  catastrophe,  crisis,  diagnosis,  diseresis,  dia- 
dem, diagram,  dropsy  (odpojip  from  udiop^  water),  dynasty,  dogma, 
epitome,  hypocrisy,  megrim  (corrupted  from  the  Latin  and 
Greek  hemicrania,  half  the  head),  program,  palsy  (from 
7Tapd/.u(Tt?),  tansy  (derived  by  some  from  af^wmaia^  through  the 
Latin  athanasia  and  the  old  French  athanasie — more  than 
doubtful) ;  the  adjectives,  graphic  (from  the  verb  ypdcfsc^),  plastic, 
exegetical,  critical,  hypercritical,  skeptical,  and  the  verbs,  pla- 
tonize,  romanize,  judaize,  evangelize.^ 

Most  of  the  Greek  terms,  especially  the  theological,  philo- 
sophical, and  political,  have  come  to  us  through  the  medium  of 
the  Latin  Bible  and  Latin  literature,  as  Christianity  (with  the 
Latin  ending  for  Christianism),  Bible,  canon,  apocrypha,  angel, 
apostle,  evangelist,  prophet,  bishop,  priest,  deacon,  baptism, 
eucharist,  scepter,  ascetic,  ocean  (hence,  the  Latin  c  for  the 
Greek  n);  a  few  through  the  Gothic,  as  is  most  probably  the 
case  with  church,  which  like  all  the  similar  words  in  the 
Teutonic  and  Slavonic  languages,  points  to  -/.upiay.6> — /.  <?.,  be- 
longing to  the  Lord,  the  Lord's  house,  the  Lord's  people,  and 
was  used  as  the  equivalent  in  sense,  though  not  in  etymology, 
to  the  Greek  h.ylr^ala  and  the  Latin  ecdesia — {i.  e.,  assembly, 
congregation).  Still  others  are  taken  directly  from  the  Greek 
with  their  proper  ending,  as  phenomenon,  criterion  (phsenomena 
and  criteria),  diapason,  demon,  pandemonium. 

Not  a  few  words  for  modern  inventions  are,  as  in  other  lan- 
guages, by  tacit  consent  and  for  international  convenience,  newly 
formed  from  the  Greek,  as  electrotype,  lithography,  melanotype, 
phonography,  photograph,  photography,  stereoscope,  stereotype, 
telescope,  telegraph,  telegram,  telephone. 

DUTCH  WORDS. 
Of  Dutch  origin  are  the  modern  sea  terms  sloop,  schooner, 
yacht;  also  a  number  of  other  words,  as  ballast,  bluff,  })lunder- 
buss,  boom,  boor,  brandy,  bush,  drill,  duck,  fop,  frolic,  gruff, 
hatchel,  hackle,  moor,  mump,  reef,  skate,  swab,  switch,  trigg, 
uproar,  wagon. 

^  The  last  seems  to  have  been  first  used  by  Wycliffe  iu  his  translation  of 
Luke  i.  19. 


THE   ENGLISH   LANGUAGE.  33 

The  Dutch  settlers  in  New  York  introduced  some  words 
which  were  unknown,  at  least  till  recently,  in  England,  as  cold 
slaa,  or  slaw  (kool  salade),  made  of  cabbage,  and  boss  (bass)  for 
master-workman,  togetlier  with  a  number  of  geographical  terms, 
which  will  perpetuate  the  history  of  the  first  settlement  of 
Manhattan  Island,  or  Xew  Amsterdam,  and  of  the  Knicker- 
bockers. 

ITALIAN  WORDS. 

The  .beautiful  Italian  language  lias  furnished  us  musical  terms, 
as  virtuoso,  prima  donna,  piano  forte,  violin  (violino),  orchestra 
(properly  from  the  Greek  clp/rj^Tzpa  and  Sp/Jo/iac,  to  dance), 
soprano,  alto,  allegro;  also  stanza,  canto,  piazza,  gazette  (from 
gazetta,  originally  a  Venetian  coin  for  the  reward  of  the  first 
newspaper),  umbrella  (from  the  Latin  umbra,  shade),  pantaloon 
(pantaleone,  French  pantalon),  charlatan  (from  clarlatano  through 
the  medium  of  the  French),  gondola,  and  bandit  [bandito,  out- 
lawed). 

SPANISH  WORDS. 

The  Spanish  has  presented  us  with  the  alligator,  alpaca,  bigot, 
cambist,  cannibal,  cargo,  cortes,  don,  filibuster  (freebooter),  gala, 
guano,  hurricane,  mosquito,  negro,  punctilio,  stampede,  potato, 
tobacco,  tomato,  tariff.^  From  the  same  language  is  probably 
also  the  verb  capsize  (capuzar),  to  sink  a  ship  by  the  head. 

ARABIC  WORDS. 
From  the  time  of  the  ascendency  of  the  Moors  in  Spain  and 
the  period  of  the  crusades  we  have  several  mathematical,  astro- 
nomical, medical  and  chemical  terms,  as  alchemy,  alcohol,  alcove, 
alembic,  algebra,  alkali,  almanac,  amber,  assassin,  azure,  cipher, 
elixir,  harem,  hegira,  nadir,  rajah,  sheik,  sofa,  talisman  (originally 
from  the  Greek  ri/.sfraa),  vizier,  zenith,  zero. 

PERSIAN  WORDS. 

Bazaar,  dervish,  lilac,  pagoda,  caravan,  scarlet,  shawl,  tartar, 

tiara,  peach,  scimetar. 

^  From  the  Spanish  promontory  and  fortress,  Tarifa,  which  commands  the 
entrance  to  the  Mediterranean,  where  tlie  Moors  watched  all  merchant  ships. 
Hence,  the  proper  spelling  would  be  tarif. 

3 


34  THE  ENGLISH  LANGUAGE. 

TURKISH  WORDS. 

Turban,  tulip,  dragoman,  divan,  firman,  effendi,  and  that  indis- 
pensable article,  coffee  (which  is  also  Arabic). 

SLAVONIC  WORDS. 

These  are  few  and  mostly  Russian,  as  drosky,  knout,  rouble, 
sieppe,  verst,  ukase. 

INDIAN  WORDS  AND  NAMES. 

The  Indian  aborigines  of  our  country  have  given  us  terms  of 
savage  life,  as  wigwam,  squaw,  hammock,  tomahawk,  canoe,  moc- 
casin, hominy  (parched  corn),  and  a  large  number  of  geographical 
names  which  are  generally  more  musical  and  expressive  than  the 
imported  foreign  names  repeated  ad  nauseam. 

It  is  to  be  regretted  that  not  more  of  the  native  and  beautiful 
nanies  of  rivers  and  mountains  were  retained,  as  Mississippi  (i.e., 
the  father  of  waters),  Missouri  (muddy  river,)  Ohio  (probably 
the  beautiful  river,  la  belle  riviere,  as  the  French  called  it),  Min- 
nehaha (laughing  water,  introduced  in  Longfellow's  Hiawatha), 
Potomac,  Susquehanna,  Monongahela,  Niagara,  Allegheny, 
Massachusetts,  Connecticut  Iowa,  Kansas,  Nebraska,  Dakota, 
Idaho,  Wyoming,  Alaska,  etc. 

AMERICANISMS. 

Americanisms  of  recent  native  growth  are  mostly  of  a  political 
character,  as  caucus,  a  term  of  uncertain  origin,  for  a  secret 
political  meeting;  doughface,  a  terui  invented  by  the  sarcastic 
John  Randolph  to  denote  a  pliable  politician,  or  a  nose  of  wax. 
The  political  party  terms:  Democrats,  Republicans,  Know-Noth- 
ings, Abolitionists,  Secessionists,  Federals,  Confederates,  have  a 
peculiar  historical  meaning  in  the  United  States  which  is  hardly 
warranted  by  the  etymology,  or  at  least  is  new  in  its  application. 
The  Democratic  party  received  for  many  years  before  and  after 
the  civil  war  its  chief  support  from  the  slave-holding  aristocracy 
of  the  South;  and  the  Republicans  monopolized  the  general 
conception  of  republicanism  at  first  in  the  interest  of  a  Northern 
party  which  opposed  the  further  extension  of  negro-slavery,  but 
afterwards  overleaped  the  sectional  boundaries.     In  the  proper 


THE   ENGLISH   LANGUAGE.  35 

sense  of  the  word  all  Americans  are  Republicans,  as  distinct  from 
Monarchists  and  Imperialists ;  and  all  are  Democrats  or  advocates 
of  popular  self-government,  in  opposition  to  class-aristocracy  or 
oligarchy. 

Tiie  civil  war  gave  currency  to  a  number  of  terms,  as  bush- 
whacker for  guerrilla,  secesh  (a  vulgarism  for  secessionist),  and 
skedaddle  for  running  away  in  a  panic  or  fight  (probably  of  Scan- 
dinavian origin,  and  possibly  connected  with  the  Greek  (Txedrh'^u/it, 
to  scatter),  which  have  found  their  way  from  the  newspapers 
into  the  latest  editions  of  Webster  and  Worcester.  *'  Contra- 
band ^'  was,  during  the  war,  employed  of  runaway  negro  slaves, 
and  was  so  first  used  by  Gen.  Butler,  when  in  Maryland,  in  1861. 
*'  Mugwump"  is  an  ugly  nickname  given  to  those  Republicans 
who,  during  the  Presidential  campaign  in  1884,  partly  in  the 
interest  of  civil  service  reform,  partly  from  opposition  to  a  high 
tariff,  voted  the  Democratic  ticket  and  elected  Cleveland.  It 
ought  to  drop  out  of  use.  "  Blizzard/'  a  fierce  whirlwind  and 
blinding  snow-drift,  is  an  onomatopoetic  word  of  Xorth-Western 
origin  (connected  with  blow,  blast,  bluster),  dating  from  about 
1880.  The  blizzard  of  March  12,  1888,  has  become  historic:  it 
broke  up  all  communication  for  several  days,  and  ^ew  York  had 
to  learn  by  cablegram  via  London  that  Boston  was  snowed  up. 

The  follow^ing  words  are  also  of  American  origin :  account- 
ability (for  accountableness),  bigbugs  (people  of  consequence), 
blatherskite,  bogus,  bore  (an  unwelcome  or  troublesome  visitor), 
bottom-land,  bottom-facts  (a  word  first  used,  I  believe,  by  Henry 
Ward  Beecher  during  his  trial),  breadstuff,  brush  up,  buffalo- 
robe,  bunkum  or  buncombe  (a  speech  made  for  the  gratification 
of  constituents,  or  for  mere  show,  from  Buncombe  County, 
North  Carolina),  cat's-paw,  Christianization,  denominationalism, 
churchliness,  dilly-dally  (to  loiter),  lager-beer  (imported  from 
Germany),  loafer,  tramp,  constructive  mileage,  dead-head,  wire- 
pullers, sockdolager,  to  wind  up,  to  have  a  good  time. 

HYBRID  WORDS. 

These  are  made  up  of  two  different  languages,  often  in  strange 
conjunction.  Examples:  across  (from  the  Saxon  a  or  an,  on^ 
and  the  Latin  crux),  bailiwick  (from  the  French  baillie,  govern- 


36  THE   ENGLISH   LANGUAGE. 

ment,  and  the  Saxon  wic,  a  village),  interloper  (half  Latin,  half 
Dutch),  Christmas  (Greek  and  Latin),  disarm  (from  the  Latin 
dis  and  Saxon  arnHy  French  desarmer),  disapprove,  disappear, 
develop  (from  the  Latin  dis  and  the  French  veloper^  developer)^ 
disfranchise,  disregard,  embark  (from  the  prefex  em  or  en  and 
6orgwe,  French  embarquer,  Italian  imbarcare),  embarrass,  forearm, 
forecast,  forecastle,  hobby-horse,  life-guard,  loggerhead,  (half 
Danish,  half  Saxon),  mishap  (from  the  Saxon  and  German  mis 
or  miss,  and  the  Icelandic  happ),  outcast,  outcry,  outfit,  refresh 
(from  the  Latin  prefix  re  and  the  Saxon  fresh,  German  frischy 
Old  French  refraishir),  regain,  relish,  remark,  reward,  seamstress, 
undertake  (from  the  Saxon  under  and  the  Scandinavian  taka, 
allied  to  the  Latin  tangere),  unruly  (from  the  Saxon  negative 
prefix  and  the  Latin  regula,  regulare,  Okl  French  renter,  Modern 
French  regler),  until  (unto  and  Ziel,  i.  e.  end).  A  curious  com- 
bination of  Latin  and  Saxon  is  the  term  nonesuch  for  unequaled 
(as  in  the  title  of  William  Seeker's  book,  "  The  Nonesuch  Pro- 
fessor in  His  Meridian  Splendor,''  1660). 

THE  ORGANIC  UNION  OF  THESE  ELEMENTS. 

We  now  proceed  to  consider  the  mixture  of  these  different 
elements,  and  the  advantages  resulting  from  it. 

The  various  elements  of  which  the  English  language  is  com- 
posed are  not  outwardly  and  mechanically  related  to  each  other, 
but  they  have  inwardly  and  organically  coalesced  by  a  long  his- 
torical process.  They  are  not  like  the  primary,  secondary,  ter- 
tiary, and  other  strata  and  deposits  in  geology,  but  tliey  form  a 
living  unit.  All  foreign  elements  are  thoroughly  anglicized,  and 
have  been  so  assimilated  and  engrafted  upon  the  original  trunk 
as  to  constitute  a  distinct  idiom  with  a  character  of  its  own,  like 
the  English  nation  itself. 

The  English  tongue  is  the  child  of  a  Saxon  queen  and  a  Nor- 
man king,  inheriting  some  of  their  best  qualities,  and  endowed 
at  the  same  time  with  an  original  genius,  thus  representing  at 
once  the  flower  of  an  old,  and  the  promise  of  a  new  dynasty. 

"  TUo  Hicli  d((s  Strenge  mit  dem  Zdrten^ 
Wo  SfdrLrs  sick  und  Mildcs  ixuirtcn  ; 
Da  <jkhi  ci  eiitcn  (/((ten  Khnit/.'^ 


THE   ENGLISH   LANGUAGE.  37 

RESULTS  OF  THIS  MIXTURE.     SPELLING. 

The  first  and  most  obvious  result  of  this  mixture  was  the 
confusion  of  the  laws  of  spelling  and  sound.  This  is  a  most 
serious  inconvenience  to  learners.  The  pronunciation  of  the 
English  cannot  be  learned  from  books,  but  only  from  living 
intercourse  and  long  practice.  Every  vowel,  instead  of  signi- 
fying one  definite  sound,  has  several,  some  even  four  and  five  or 
more  different  sounds,^  as  the  a  in  father,  fall,  fat,  what;  the  o 
in  dove,  move,  wolf,  note,  and  not;  the  i  in  bite,  bit,  and  bird  ; 
the  u  in  duck,  tune,  and  bull;  the  ou  in  dough,  cough,  tough, 
tour,  plough  ;  or  certain  letters  represent  different  articulations 
of  the  organs,  as  th  in  thin,  and  thine;  and  a  number  of  words, 
though  spelled  very  differently,  cannot  be  distinguished  in  pro- 
nunciation, as  is  the  case  with  to,  too,  and  two,  or  with  write, 
right,  rite,  and  (wheel-)\vright. 

The  orthography  and  pronunciation  of  the  English  defies  all 
laws,  is  most  perplexing  to  a  foreigner,  and  hinders  the  progress 
of  the  language.  It  becomes  intolerable,  at  least  to  continental 
ears,  if  applied  to  other  languages,  as  the  Greek  and  Latin, 
and  only  tends  to  confusion  among  classical  scholars.  Max 
Mliller  denounces  the  present  system  of  spelling  as  "  corrupt, 
effete,  and  utterly  irrational.''  AY.  D.  Whitney  says  that  every 
theoretical  and  practical  consideration  is  in  favor  of  reform. 

The  English  alphabet  being  borrowed  from  the  Roman,  is  alto- 
gether insufficient  both  in  respect  to  vowels  and  consonants,  ^ye 
have  only  twenty-six  letters  wherewith  to  write  at  least  thirty-two 
sounds.  It  is  to  be  hoped  that  sooner  or  later  this  difficulty  will 
be  removed  by  the  substitution  of  a  phonetic  for  the  traditional 
orthography,  although  such  a  change  would  have  the  serious 
inconvenience  of  obliterating  the  etymological  origin  of  words. 

The  accent  also  has  changed,  and  in  words  derived  from  the 
French  it  has  receded  from  the  last  to  the  second  last  syllable. 

*  Dr.  Worcester  has  here  gone  beyond  Dr.  Webster,  and  unnecessarily,  we 
think,  multiplied  the  sounds.  In  his  "  key  "'  he  marks  seven  different  sounds 
of  a  (three  more  than  Webster),  five  sounds  of  e  (three  more  than  AVebster), 
five  of  i  (two  more  than  Webster),  six  of  o  (one  more  than  Webster),  six  of  ?t 
(three  more  than  Webster),  and  four  of  y.  This  seems  to  be  more  nice  than 
wise. 


38  THE   ENGLISH   LANGUAGE. 

NEW  MIDDLE  SOUNDS. 

But  this  disadvantage  of  the  English  as  an  object  for  the 
learner  is  more  than  compensated  by  an  advantage  in  the  in- 
creased number  of  sounds  and  a  consequent  addition  to  the 
efficiency  of  speech  and  poetic  composition.  Besides  the  eigh- 
teen articulations  of  the  ancient  Romans  we  have  at  least  four- 
teen other  vowel  and  semi-vowel  sounds.  The  mingling  of 
Saxon,  Norman,  and  Celtic  vowels  has  given  rise  to  a  number 
of  middle  sounds  between  a,  i,  o,  and  u,  which  impart  to  the 
spoken  English  a  greater  force,  fullness  and  variety  of  sound. 
Generally  speaking  the  various  Germanic  dialects  (including  the 
Platt-Deutsch,  the  Dutch,  the  Danish  and  the  Swedish),  owing 
to  the  preponderance  of  consonants  over  the  vowels,  are  by  no 
means  musical  and  cannot  be  compared  in  this  respect  with  the 
ancient  Greek  and  Latin,  and  the  Romanic  languages  of 
Southern  Europe.  The  English,  too,  is  vigorous  and  effective 
rather  than  harmonious  and  pleasing.  But  a  skilful  use  of  those 
peculiar  middle  sounds  imparts  to  the  English  the  charm  of  a 
deep,  rich,  and  solemn  melody.  The  Germans,  as  a  people,  are 
more  musical  than  the  English,  and  have  produced  the  greatest 
composers ;  but  the  English  language  is  more  musical  than  the 
German. 

No  British  poets,  perhaps,  understood  the  music  of  words  bet- 
ter than  Byron  and  Tennyson.  Take  the  following  examples 
from  "  Childe  Harold's  Pilgrimage  :" — 

"  I  stood  in  Venice,  on  the  Bridge  of  Sighs, 

A  palace  and  a  prison  at  each  hand  : 
I  saw  from  out  the  wave  her  structures  rise 

As  from  the  stroke  of  the  enchanter's  wand  : 

A  thousand  years  their  cloudy  wings  expand 
Around  me,  and  a  dying  glory  smiles 

O'er  the  far  times,  when  many  a  subject  land 
Look'd  to  the  winged  Lion's  marble  piles, 
Where  Venice  sate  in  state,  throned  on  her  hundred  isles !  " 

"In  Venice  Tasso's  echoes  are  no  more. 
And  silent  rows  the  songless  gondolier  ; 
Her  palaces  are  crumbling  to  the  shore. 
And  music  meets  not  always  now  the  ear  : 


THE   ENGLISH   LANGUAGE.  39 

Those  days  are  gone — but  Beauty  still  is  here. 
States  fall,  arts  fade — but  Nature  doth  not  die, 

Nor  j^et  forget  how  A^'enice  once  was  dear, 
The  pleasant  place  of  all  festivity, 
The  revel  of  the  earth,  the  masque  of  Italy  !"' 

"Roll  on,  thou  deep  and  diirk  blue  Ocean — roll  ! 

Ten  thousand  fleets  sweep  over  thee  in  vain  ; 
Man  marks  the  earth  with  ruin — his  control 

Stops  with  the  shore  ;  upon  the  wateiy  plain 

The  wrecks  are  all  thy  deed,  nor  doth  remain 
A  shadow  of  man's  ravage,  save  his  own. 

When  for  a  moment,  like  a  drop  of  rain, 
He  sinks  into  thy  depths  with  bubbling  groan, 
Without  a  grave,  unknell'd,  uncoffin'd  and  unknown. 

' '  Thou  glorious  mirror,  where  the  Almighty' s  form 

Glasses  itself  in  tempests  ;  in  all  time. 
Calm  or  convulsed — in  breeze,  or  gale,  or  storm, 

Icing  the  pole,  or  in  the  torrid  clime 

Dark-heaving  ; — boundless,  endless,  and  sublime — 
The  image  of  Eternit}^ — the  throne 

Of  the  Invisible  ;  even  from  out  thy  slime 
The  monsters  of  the  deep  are  made ;  each  zone 
Obeys  thee  ;  thou  goest  forth,  dread,  fathomless,  alone. ' ' 

Among  Tennyson^s  poems,  the  '^  Charge  of  the  Light  Bri- 
gade/' to  which  we  shall  refer  for  another  purpose,  is  unsur- 
passed for  its  military  music. 

Of  American  poets,  Edgar  Poe's  '^Song  of  the  Bell/'  and 
especially  his  '^  Raven/'  will  at  once  suggest  themselves  as 
striking  specimens  for  illustration.  The  ''Raven"  owes  its 
celebrity  certainly  not  to  its  thoughts,  but  almost  exclusively  to 
the  strange,  melancholy  music  of  versification  sounding  from  a 
dark  midnight  scenery  to  the  ear  and  filling  the  soul  with 
ghostly  visions  of  terror  and  despair.  The  whole  is  too  long 
for  quotation.     We  select  the  first  and  the  last  stanzas  : — 

"Once,  upon  a  midnight  dreary,  while  I  pondered,  weak  and  weary, 
Over  many  a  quaint  and  curious  volume  of  forgotten  lore, 
While  I  nodded,  nearly  napping,  suddenly  there  came  a  tapping. 
As  of  some  one,  gently  rapping,  rapping  at  my  chamber  door  ; 
'  'Tis  some  visitor,'  I  muttered,  '  tapping  at  my  chamber  door — 
Only  this,  and  nothing  more. 


40  THE   ENGLISH   LANGUAGE. 

"And  the  raven,  never  flitting,  still  is  sitting,  still  is  sitting 
On  tlie  pallid  bust  of  Pallas  just  above  my  chamber  door  : 
And  his  eyes  have  all  the  seeming  of  a  demon  that  is  dreaming, 

And  the  lamp-light,  o'  er  him  streaming,  throws  his  shadow  on  the  floor ; 
And  my  soul  from  out  that  shadow  that  lies  floating  on  the  floor 
Shall  be  lifted — nevermore  !  " 

Longfellow's  ^^  Hiawatha "  is  full  of  melody,  though  it 
becomes  somewhat  monotonous  and  tedious.  His  '^  Psalm  of 
Life,"  too,  is  very  musical,  especially  this  stanza : — 

"Art  is  long,  aad  Time  is  fleeting. 

And  our  hearts,  though  stout  and  brave, 
Still,  like  mufiled  drums,  are  beating 
Funeral  marches  to  the  grave. ' ' 

Of  less-known  poems  we  may  refer  to  Francis  Mahony's 
(Father  Front's)  "  Bells  of  Shandon,"  beginning — 

' '  With  deep  aff"ection 
And  recollection 
I  often  think  of 

Those  Shandon  bells, 
"Whose  sounds  so  wild  would, 
In  the  days  of  childhood, 
Fling  round  my  cradle 

Their  magic  spells. 

"On  this  I  ponder 
Where'er  I  wander, 
And  thus  grow  fonder. 

Sweet  Cork,  of  thee. 
With  thy  bells  of  Shandon, 
That  sound  so  grand  on 
The  pleasant  waters 

Of  the  river  Lee. ' ' 

SIMPLICITY  OF  THE  GRAMMAK. 

While  in  point  of  pronunciation  the  English  language  is  one 
of  the  most  difficult  to  acquire  for  a  foreigner,  it  is  easiest  and 
simplest  as  to  its  grammatical  structure.  It  is  a  general  fact 
that  languages  are  richer  in  their  youth  and  become  poorer  in 
grammatical  forms  as  they  })rogress  in  age  and  culture.  A 
savage  language  spoken  on  the  Gaboon  river,  in  Africa,  is  said 
to  possess  an   unbounded   flexibility,  copiousness   and    melody. 


THE   ENGLISH   LANGUAGE.  41 

Most  of  the  Indian  dialects,  too,  are  very  complex  in  organiza- 
tion and  structure.  But  the  perfection  of  a  language  does  not 
consist  in  the  number  of  words,  the  variety  of  forms,  and 
mechanical  regularity  of  grammatical  inflection.  The  inflec- 
tional element  of  language  is  its  most  accidental,  and  hence  its 
least  permanent  and  least  important  element.  The  decay  in 
material  exuberance  is  a  growth  in  intellectuality  and  freedom 
from  useless  incumbrances.  AYhat  is  lost  in  variety  is  gained 
in  clearness  and  precision.  A  tree  thrives  and  bears  better  for 
being  trimmed  of  all  useless  branches.  It  is  a  principle  in 
mechanics  to  produce  with  the  smallest  possible  means  the 
greatest  possible  effect. 

In  this  respect  the  English  stands  without  a  rival  among  the 
various  languages  of  Christendom.  It  is  the  simplest,  most 
direct,  and  practical  language,  most  easily  acquired  and  most 
easily  used.  As  compared  with  the  ancient  languages,  or  with 
the  German,  it  is  very  poor  in  ground-forms,  inflections  and  the 
details  of  syntax.  Its  words  appear  to  the  etymologist  bruised 
and  broken.  But  this  very  poverty  and  mutilation  is  a  source 
of  greater  strength  and  efficacy.  The  English  lost  the  liberty 
of  the  ancient  Saxon  and  modern  German  in  the  syntactical 
arrangement  of  words;  but  what  it  thus  lost  in  rhetorical 
and  poetical  convenience,  it  gained  in  simplicity,  clearness  and 
logical  order  of  construction.  Good  English,  like  good  French, 
requires  short,  concise,  direct  and  easily  intelligible  sentences. 
Long,  involved,  and  complicated  periods  may  be  allowed  only 
as  exceptions. 

This,  too,  is  to  be  attributed  in  part  to  its  composite  character. 
The  collision  and  commingling  of  so  many  different  elements 
facilitated  and  hastened  the  natural  progress  of  language  from 
materialism  to  intellectualism,  from  exuberance  to  simplicity. 
The  Saxons  expressed  their  meaning  as  briefly  as  possible  to 
their  Norman  masters  and  dropped  all  unessential  letters.  The 
Normans  learned  just  enough  of  the  Saxon  to  make  themselves 
understood  without  regard  to  grammatical  inflections  and  termi- 
nations. 


42 


THE  ENGLISH  LANGUAGE. 


BREVITY. 

It  is  in  this  way  that  the  English  acquired  that  remarkable 
brevity  which  makes  it  the  best  business  language.  Voltaire 
once  playfully  remarked  that  an  Englishman  gained  half  an 
hour  in  speaking  with  a  Frenchman.  The  Latin  words  had 
already  lost  in  syllables  or  sound  by  becoming  French.  They 
were  still  more  abridged,  bruised,  and  broken  by  being  engrafted 
upon  the  Saxon.     Take  the  following  illustrations. 

Words  originally  of  four  or  more  syllables  become  trisyllables 
or  dissyllables : — 


Latin. 

French. 

English. 

abbreviare 

abreger 

abridge 

cadentia 

chance 

chance 

creatura 

creature 

creature 

concupiscere 

convoiter 

covet 

consuetudo 

costume  and  coutume 

custom 

decipere 

d^cevoir 

deceive 

dependere 

dependre 

depend 

desiderium 

desir 

desire 

diabolus 

diable 

devil 

episcopus 

(eveque) 

bishop 

flagitare 

flatter 

flatter 

gratificari 

gratifier 

gratify 

gubernare 

gouverner 

govern 

innocencia 

innocence 

innocence 

judicium 

jugement 

judgment 

(re)memorare 

remembre 

remember 

obedire 

obeir 

obey 

occur rere 

(occurrent) 

occur 

peregrin  us 

p^lerin 

pilgrim 

periculum 

peril 

peril 

praedicare 

precher 

preach 

praevalere 

prevaloir 

prevail 

producere 

prod  u  ire 

produce 

redemptio 

ranyon 

ransom 

remanere 

(remaindre) 

remain 

respondere 

repondre 

respond 

THE  ENGLISH  LANGUAGE. 


43 


Latin. 

French. 

Fnglish. 

scandal  um 

scandale  and  esclaudre  scandal  and  si 

sententia 

sentence 

sentence 

silvaticus 

sauvage 

savage 

viaticum 

voyage^ 

voyage^ 

Trisyllables  changed  into  dissyllables  or  monosyllables 

Laiin. 

French. 

English. 

bibere 

boire 

bib 

carpere 

(cueillir) 

carp 

cedere 

ceder 

cede 

can  tare 

chanter 

chant 

catena 

chaine 

chain 

cerasus 

cerise 

cherry 

chirurgus 

chirurgien 

surgeon 

civitas 

cite 

city 

claraare 

(clamear) 

claim 

congressus 

congr^s 

congress 

corona 

couronue 

crown 

crudelis 

cruel 

cruel 

debitor 

debiteur 

debtor 

debitura 

dette  (d^bet) 

debt 

decretum 

decret 

decree 

digestum 

digeste 

digest 

dignari 

daigner 

deign 

flagellum 

fleau 

flail 

fragilis 

frele 

frail 

frigere 

frire 

fry 

gaudiura 

joie 

joy 

jungere 

joindre 

join 

lectio 

le9on 

lesson 

legalis 

loyal 

loyal 

mensura 

mesure 

measure 

natura 

nature 

nature 

numerus 

n  ombre 

number 

persiciira 

peche 

peach 

placere 

plaire 

please 

This  may  be  from  voie,  via,  Weg. 


44 


THE  ENGLISH  LANGUAGE. 


Latin. 

French. 

English. 

pretium 

prix 

price  and  praise 

rabies 

rage 

rage 

regal  is 

royal 

royal 

ealvare 

sauver 

save 

Salvator 

Sauveur 

Saviour 

Scriptura 

^criture 

Scripture 

securus 

sur 

sure  and  secure 

sigillum 

scell^  and  sceau 

seal 

spolium 

(spolier) 

spoil 

tractare 

traiter 

treat 

urgere 

(urgent) 

urge 

videre 

voir  (vue) 

view 

Dissyllabic  words  shortened  to  monosyllables : 

Latin. 

French. 

English. 

caput  {y.£(paXri) 

chef 

chief 

chorus  {yop6<s) 

choeur 

choir 

clarus 

clair 

clear 

costa 

cote  (coste) 

coast 

crassus 

gros 

gross  (cross,  course) 

fides 

foi 

faith 

fructus 

fruit 

fruit 

judex 

juge 

judge 

nomen  {ovo/jlo) 

nom 

noun  and  name 

pisum  {-{(Tov) 

pois 

pea 

praeda 

proie 

prey 

poena 

peine 

pain 

quartus 

quart 

quart 

sal  V  us 

sauf  (sauve) 

safe 

sensus 

sens 

sense 

son  us 

sou 

sound 

The  Saxon  element  has  likewise  undergone  a  process  of  cur- 
tailment. All  letters  and  grammatical  inflections  which  are  not 
absolutely  necessary  were  gradually  dropped.  Thus  we  lost  the 
h  before  1  (as  in  loaf  for  hlaf,  lot  for  hlot),  the  case-ending  in  the 
noun  (except  the  s  of  the  genitive  for  the  Saxon  es),  the  plural 
termination  en  (except  in  some  irregular  nouns,  as  oxen),  the 


THE   ENGLISH   LANGUAGE.  45 

verbal  prefix  ge  or  ga,  as  in  deal  for  gedgelan  (German  theilen, 
getheilt),  deem  for  ged^eman  (ziemen,  geziemt),  and  the  verbal  ter- 
mination an  in  the  infinitive  still  retained  in  the  modern  German 
[en)y  as  come  for  cuman  (German  kommen),  cook  for  gecocnian 
(kochen),  deal  for  dselan  or  gedgelan  (theilen),  dip  for  dippan 
(tupfen,  tanchcn,  taufen),  drill  for  thirlian  (drillen),  drive  for 
drifan  (treiben),  give  for  gifan  (geben),  love  for  lufian  (lieben), 
mean  for  menan  (meinen),  pluck  for  pluccian  (pfliicken),  shoot 
for  sceotan  (^shiessen,  schossen),  shall  for  sceolan  (sollen),  wed  for 
weddian,  weep  for  wepan  (weinen),  write  for  writan  or  gewritan 
(schreiben). 

Even  in  our  age  the  English  in  their  zeal  to  gain  time,  express 
themselves  as  briefly  as  possible,  and  have  a  tendency  to  abridge 
still  further.  Thus  they  say  broke  for  broken,  bus  for  omnibus, 
cab  for  cabriolet,  pro  tern  for  pro  tempore.  Also  the  double 
forms,  sung  and  sang,  drunk  and  drank,  the  distinction  between 
the  past  tense  and  the  passive  participle,  and  the  use  of  the  sub- 
junctive, in  connection  with  if  (as,  if  it  is,  for  if  it  be),  are  likely 
to  pass  away  under  the  force  of  the  law  of  convenience  and  time- 
saving  economy. 

MONOSYLLABIC  CHARACTER. 

From  this  process  of  abridgment  results  the  fact  that  the 
English  language,  especially  the  Saxon  portion  of  it,  has  an  un- 
usual number  of  monosyllables.  Nearly  all  the  monosyllables 
are  relics  of  earlier  polysyllables.  In  this  monosyllabic  character 
and  poverty  of  inflections  and  formative  elements  the  English 
resembles  the  Chinese.  The  monosyllabic  character  gives  it  a 
very  decided  advantage  for  commerce,  business,  and  all  the  prac- 
tical concerns  of  life.  It  reduces  the  expense  of  correspondence 
by  telegraph  and  telephone.^  In  poetry  it  limits  the  number  of 
double  rhymes,  which  is  quite  an  inconvenience  in  doing  full 
justice  to  the  Italian  terza  rima  in  Dante's  Divina  Comedian  or 
the  famous  Latin  Dies  irae,  dies  ilia.     But  this  defect  is  amply 

^  Orton,  late  President  of  the  "Western  L'uiou  Telegrapli  Company,  New 
York,  said  that  English  was  tweuty-tive  per  cent,  cheaper  for  telegraphic  pur- 
poses than  any  other.  Notices  posted  up  in,  say  four  languages,  prove  tlie 
same,  generally,  in  the  relation  ol"  lour  English,  six  French,  eight  German, 
and  nine  or  ten  Spanish  words,  to  express  the  same  idea. 


46  TPIE  ENGLISH  LANGUAGE. 

compensated  by  the  peculiar  force  which  the  monosyllabic  char- 
acter imparts  to  English  poetry. 

Dr.  Jos.  Addison  Alexander,  of  Princeton,  wrote  the  follow- 
ing two  sonnets  consisting  exclusively  of  monosyllables,  which 
appeared  under  the  title  ^*  Monosyllables '^  in  the  Princeton 
Magazine,  May  18th,  1850,  and  which  we  may  quote  here  as 
curiosities  of  literature. 

I. 
' '  Think  not  that  strength  lies  in  the  big  round  word, 
Or  that  the  brief  and  plain  must  needs  be  weak  ; 
To  whom  can  this  seem  true  that  once  has  heard 

The  cry  for  help,  the  tongue  that  all  men  speak 
When  want,  or  woe,  or  fear  is  in  the  throat, 

So  that  each  word  gasped  out  is  like  a  shriek 
Pressed  from  the  sore  heart,  or  a  strange  wild  note 
Sung  by  some  fay  or  fiend.     There  is  a  strength 
Which  dies  if  stretched  too  far,  or  spun  too  fine, 

Which  has  more  height  than  breadth,  more  depth  than  length  : 
Let  but  this  force  of  thought  and  speech  be  mine. 
And  he  that  will  may  take  the  sleek,  fat  phrase. 
Which  glows  and  burns  not,  though  it  gleam  and  shine — 
Light,  but  no  heat — a  flash,  but  not  a  blaze  ! ' ' 

IL 

'  Nor  is  it  mere  strength  that  the  short  word  boasts  ; 

It  serves  of  more  than  fight  or  storm  to  tell. 
The  roar  of  waves  that  clash  on  rock-bound  coasts. 

The  crash  of  tall  trees  when  the  wild  winds  swell, 
The  roar  of  guns,  the  groans  of  men  that  die 

On  blood-stained  fields.     It  has  a  voice  as  well 
For  them  that  far  off  on  their  sick  beds  lie ; 

For  them  that  weep,  for  them  that  mourn  the  dead  ; 
For  them  that  laugh,  and  dance,  and  clap  the  hand  ; 

To  joy's  quick  step,  as  well  as  grief's  slow  tread. 
The  sweet,  i)lain  words  we  learnt  at  first  keep  time, 

And  though  the  theme  be  sad,  or  gay,  or  grand, 
With  each,  with  all,  these  may  be  made  to  chime. 
In  thought,  or  speech,  or  song,  in  prose  or  rhyme. ' ' 

Illustrations  of  monosyllabic  poetry  from  Shakespeare  are 
abundant.  Some  of  the  most  familiar  passages  are  monosyl- 
labic.   Take  the  following: — 

From  Hamlet : — 

"To  be  or  not  to  be  :  that  is  the  question. ' ' 


THE  ENGLISH   LANGUAGE.  47 

The  words  of  Macbeth  to  Banquo's  ghost : — 

' '  Thou  canst  not  say  I  did  it : 
Ne'er  shake  thy  gory  locks  at  me." 

The  despairing  exclamation  of  Richard  III : — 

' '  A  horse  !  a  horse  !  My  kingdom  for  a  horse  ! ' ' 

William  Wordsworth  introduces  his  poems  referring  to  the 
period  of  childhood  with  Saxon  monosyllables  (except  three 
dyosyllables  and  two  Latin  words) : — 

"  My  heart  leaps  up  when  I  behold 
A  rainbo\Y  in  the  sky  : 
So  was  it  when  my  life  began  ; 
So  it  is  now  I  am  a  man  ; 
So  be  it  when  I  shall  grow  old, 

Or  let  me  die  ! 
The  Child  is  father  of  the  Man  ; 
And  I  could  wish  my  days  to  be 
Bound  each  to  each  by  natural  piety." 

The  following  lines  on  the  departure  of  a  friend  are  not  found 
in  Byron's  works,  but  were  published  under  his  name  in  Lady 
Blessington's  '^  Memoirs  :" — 

' '  I  heard  thy  fate  without  a  tear, 
Thy  loss  with  scarce  a  sigh  ; 
And  yet  thou  wert  surpassing  dear — 
Too  loved  of  all  to  die, 

I  know  not  what  hath  seared  mine  eye, 

The  tears  refuse  to  start ; 
But  every  drop  its  lids  deny, 

Falls  dreary  on  my  heart. 

Yes — deep  and  heavy  one  by  one 

They  sink  and  turn  to  care ; 
As  caverned  waters  wear  the  stone, 

Yet  dropping  harden  there. 

They  cannot  petrify  more  fast. 

Than  feelings  sunk  remain 
Which,  coldly  fixed,  regard  the  past, 

But  never  melt  asrain." 


48  THE   ENGLISH  LANGUAGE. 

Hood's  "  Song  of  the  Shirt ''  consists  largely  of  monosyllables, 
and  its  ever  returning 

"Stitch!    Stitch!    Stitch!" 
"Work!    Work!    Work!" 

has  a  singular  effect  upon  the  imagination. 

The  beautiful  evening  hymn  of  Keble,  which  has  passed  into 
most  modern  hymn-books,  begins: — 

"  Sun  of  my  soul,  thou  Saviour  dear, 
It  is  not  night,  if  Thou  be  near. '  * 

Tennyson,  like  Shakespeare,  is  full  of  Saxon  monosyllables. 
Take  the  following  specimens  : — 

"And  on  her  loner's  arm  she  leant, 
And  round  her  waist  she  felt  it  fold, 
And  far  across  the  hills  they  went, 
In  that  new  world  which  now  is  old. ' ' 

The  poem  on  the  Foolish  Virgins  (Matt.  25  :  11, 12),  in  "  Gui- 
nevere," is  almost  wholly  monosyllabic: — 

"  Late,  late,  so  late  !  and  dark  the  night  and  chill ! 
Late,  late,  so  late  !  but  we  can  enter  still. 

'  Too  late,  too  late  !  ye  cannot  enter  now. '  ' ' 

The  same  is  true  of  most  part  of  his  "  In  Memoriam.''  Take 
the  beautiful  lines: — 

' '  Our  little  systems  have  their  day ; 

They  have  their  day  and  cease  to  he  : 

They  are  hut  broken  lights  of  Thee, 

And  Thou,  0  Lord,  art  more  than  they. ' ' 

Or  the  New  Year's  poem  : — 

"  Ring  out  the  old,  ring  in  the  new." 

Or  the  oft  quoted  lines  : — 

"  There  lives  more  faith  in  honest  doubt, 
Believe  me,  than  in  half  the  eieecl?. ' ' 

I  cannot  refrain  from  quoting  in  full  his  Crimean  battle 
song,  "  The  Charge  of  the  Light  Brigade,"  which  has  no  rival  in 
any  language,  lie  wrote  it  after  reading  the  first  report  of  that 
memorable  charge  of  607  sabres  upon  a  whole  army,  at  Balaklava, 


THE   ENGLISH   LANGUAGE.  49 

in  obedience  to  orders.  It  appeared  first  in  the  London  Times, 
in  autumn,  1854,  but  has  undergone  several  revisions.  I  quote 
it  from  the  authorized  Boston  edition  (Houghton,  Osgood  &  Co., 
1878,  p.  183),  and  add  some  variations,  taken  in  part  from  a 
manuscript  copy  of  Tennyson  in  possession  of  my  friend,  John 
E.  Parsons,  Esq.,  of  New  York. 

L 
Haifa  k^ague,  half  a  league, 

Half  a  league  onward, 
All  in  the  valley  of  Death 
Rode  the  six  hundred. 
"  Forward,  the  Light  Brigade  ! 
Charge  for  the  guns  !  "  he  said  ; 
Into  the  valley  of  Death 
Rode  the  six  hundred. 

"  Forward,  the  Light  Brigade  !  " 
Was  there  a  man  dismay' d  ? 
Not  though  the  soldier  knew 

Some  one  had  blundered  :  ^ 
"  Charge,"  was  the  captain's  cry,  ^ 
Theirs  not  to  make  reply, 
Theirs  not  to  reason  why. 
Theirs  but  to  do  and  die. 
Into  the  valley  of  Death 

Rode  the  six  hundred. 

3. 
Cannon  to  right  of  them, 
Cannon  to  left  of  them. 
Cannon  in  front  of  them. 

Volley' d  and  thunder' d  ; 
Storm' d  at  with  shot  and  shell. 
Boldly  they  rode  and  well 
Into  the  jaws  of  Death, 
Into  the  mouth  of  Hell 

Rode  the  six  hundred. 

^  Originally  (iu  the  ^IS.  referred  to) — 

''  For  up  came  an  order  which 
Some  one  had  blundered  : 
'  Forward,  the  Light  Brigade  ! 
Take  tlie  guns  ! '  Nolan  said." 
^  This  line  is  omitted  iu  the  Boston  edition  and  in  the  MS.,  but  I  found 
it  in  one  of  the  recensions. 

4 


50  THE   ENGLISH   LANGUAGE. 

4. 
Flash' d  all  their  sabres  bare, 
Flash' d  as  they  turn' d  in  air,^ 
Sabring  the  gunners  there, 
Charging  an  army,  while 

All  the  world  wonder' d  : 
Plunged  in  the  battery-smoke 
Right  through^  the  line  they  broke  ; 
Cossack  and  Russian 
Reel'd  from  the  sabre-stroke.^ 
Strong  was  the  sabre-stroke, 
Making  an  army  reel. 

Shatter' d  and  sunder' d. 
Then  they  rode  back,  but  not — 

Not  the  six  hundred. 

5. 
Cannon  to  right  of  them, 
Cannon  to  left  of  them, 
Cannon  behind  them 

Volley' d  and  thunder' d, 
Storm' d  at  with  shot  and  shell. 
While  horse  and  hero  fell. 
They  that  had  fought  so  well 
Rode  thro'  the  jaws  of  Death, 
Half  a  league  back  again,  * 
Back  from  the  mouth  of  Hell, 
All  that  was  left  of  them — 

Left  of  six  hundred. 

When  can  their  glory  fade? 
O  the  wild  charge  they  made  ! 

All  the  world  wonder' d. 
Honor  the  charge  they  made  ! 
Honor  the  Light  Brigade, 

Noble  six  hundred.!  ^ 

^  The  MS.  reads,  "  Flashed  all  at  once  in  air."  ^  Qj.^  '<  Fiercely." 

'  The  MS.  has  a  better  reading  :  — 

"  With  many  a  desperate  stroke 
The  Russian  line  they  broke," 
■*  Omitted  in  the  Boston  edition  and  in  the  MS. 

*  This  agrees  with  the  MS.,  but  in  my  memorandum  book  I  find  the  fol- 
lowing beautiful  conclusion  from  another  recension: — 
"  Honor  the  brave  and  bold  ! 
Long  shall  the  tale  be  told, 
Yea,  when  our  babes  are  old, 
How  they  rode  onward." 


THE  ENGLISH  LANGUAGE.  51 


LARGE  NUMBER  OF  SYNONYMS. 

The  union  of  the  Saxon  with  the  IS'orman  was  bought  at  a 
great  sacrifice  of  Saxon  words  which  were  retained  in  the  pure 
German.  Thus  the  Anglo-Saxon  has  several  words  for  lan- 
guage, most  of  which  are  lost  in  modern  English,  as  gereord, 
getheode,  laeden,  reord,  spell  (retained  in  gospel),  spsec,  spraec, 
(speech,  German,  Sprache),  tunge  (tongue,  German,  Zunge). 

But  this  loss  is  more  than  made  up  by  corresponding  French 
and  Latin  terms,  and  by  the  advantage  of  a  large  number  of 
synonyms  or  duplicates,  and  even  triplicates  and  quintuplicates, 
for  expressing  the  same  idea  with  a  different  shade  of  meaning.-^ 

This  is  a  great  convenience,  especially  to  the  philosopher,  the 
orator,  and  the  poet. 

I  will  select  some  examples  of  synonymous  nouns,  adjectives, 
and  verbs. 

The  Saxon  freedom  and  the  Latin  liberty  are  often  used  indis- 
criminately as  rhetorical  or  metrical  considerations  may  suggest, 
yet  the  former  is  the  general,  the  latter  the  specific  term ;  the 
one  expresses  the  state  and  power  of  self-determination  and 
self-government  as  an  inherent  and  inalienable  right,  the  other 
implies  deliverance  from  a  previous  state  of  servitude  or  restraint. 

'  I  found  the  following  characteristic  passage  in  a  newspaper,  without  the 
name  of  the  author,  under  the  title  "■  Wonders  of  the  English  Language  :" — 

"  The  construction  of  the  English  Language  must  appear  most  formidable 
to  a  foreigner.  One  of  them,  looking  at  a  picture  of  a  number  of  vessels, 
said  :  '  See,  what  a  flock  of  ships  !'  He  was  told  that  a  flock  of  ships  was 
called  a  fleet,  and  that  a  fleet  of  sheep  was  called  a  flock.  And  it  was  added, 
for  his  guidance  in  mastering  the  intricacies  of  our  language,  that  a  flock  of 
girls  is  called  a  bevy,  that  a  bevy  of  wolves  is  called  a  pack,  and  a  pack  of 
thieves  is  called  a  gang,  and  a  gang  of  angels  is  called  a  host,  and  a  host  of 
porpoises  is  called  a  shoal,  and  a  shoal  of  buffalo  is  called  a  herd,  and  a  herd 
of  children  is  called  a  troop,  and  a  troop  of  partridges  is  called  a  covey,  and 
a  covey  of  beauties  is  called  a  galaxy,  and  a  galaxy  of  ruflSans  is  called  a  horde, 
and  a  horde  of  rubbish  is  called  a  heap,  and  a  heap  of  oxen  is  called  a  drove, 
and  a  drove  of  blackguards  is  called  a  mob,  and  a  mob  of  whales  is  called  a 
school,  and  a  school  of  worshipers  is  called  a  congregation,  and  a  congregation 
of  engineers  is  called  a  corps,  and  a  corps  of  robbers  is  called  a  band,  and  a 
band  of  locusts  is  called  a  swarm,  and  a  swarm  of  people  is  called  a  crowd, 
and  a  crowd  of  gentlefolks  is  called  ^Ute,  and  the  6lite  of  the  city's  thieves 
and  rascals  are  called  the  roughs." 


52  THE   ENGLISH   LANGUAGE. 

Hfince,  we  say  a  slave  is  set  at  liberty  (not  at  freedom),  if  he  was 
a  born  slave,  while  he  is  restored  to  freedom,  if  he  was  origin- 
ally free.  The  liberty  of  the  press  is  the  best  guarantee  for  the 
freedom  of  thought  and  speech.  The  Saxon  love  is  the  affection 
of  the  heart,  the  Latin  charity,  although  originally  as  compre- 
hensive as  the  former,  is  love  in  active  exercise;  the  former 
applies  to  God  as  well  as  man,  and  to  man  in  his  relation  both 
to  his  Maker  and  his  fellow-creatures ;  while  the  latter,  accord- 
ing to  more  recent  usage,  means  only  love  of  man  to  man,  or 
active  benevolence.  Shepherd  may  be  used  both  figuratively 
(as  in  Psalm  xxiii.  and  John  x.)  and  literally,  while  pastor  is 
only  employed  figuratively.  Ship  signifies  the  sailing  vessel, 
whether  for  commerce  or  war,  whether  propelled  by  wind  or 
steam,  while  nave,  from  navis  (vau?),  is  used  as  an  architectural 
term  in  speaking  of  the  main  divisions  of  a  church  from  the 
entrance  to  the  altar.  Murder  is  the  unlawful  killing  of  a  man 
with  malicious  intention,  manslaughter  is  killing  without  such 
intention;  while  the  Latin  homicide  is  the  general  term  for  both. 
Then  we  have  righteousness  and  justice,  might  and  power, 
strength  and  force,  need  and  necessity,  gift  and  donation, 
heathen  and  pagan  (both  applied  to  idolaters  as  villagers  or 
dwellers  on  heaths  after  the  triumph  of  Christianity  in  the 
cities),  calling  and  vocation,  wood  and  forest,  stream  and  river, 
dale  and  valley,  waterfall  and  cascade,  land  and  country,  storm 
and  tempest,  grief  and  dolor,  woe  and  misery,  handbook  and 
manual,  answer  and  response,  forerunner  and  precursor,  feather 
and  plume,  lie  and  falsehood,  godliness  and  piety,  creator  and 
maker,  behavior  and  conduct,  friendship  and  amity,  happiness 
and  beatitude,  mistake,  error  and  blunder,  feeling,  sentiment, 
emotion  and  affection,  wedlock,  marriage  and  matrimony,  better- 
ment (now  almost  obsolete  except  as  a  technical  term  in  juris- 
prudence, but  of  frequent  occurrence  among  the  best  writers  of 
tlie  seventeenth  century)  and  improvement,  bent  and  inclination, 
body  and  corpse,  diet  and  food,  track  and  vestige,  hint  and  sug- 
gestion, building,  edifice  and  structure. 

Of  adjectives  I  mention  lovely  (worthy  of  love)  and  amiable 
(of  sweet  disposition),  readable  (of  the  contents  of  a  book)  and 
legible  (of  handwriting),  everlasting  (without  end)  and  eternal 


THE   ENGLISH   LANGUAGE.  53 

(without  beginning  and  without  end,  if  applied  to  God),  almighty 
and  omnipotent,  priestly  and  sacerdotal,  kingly  and  royal,  early 
and  timely,  handsome  and  beautiful  (stronger),  ripe  and  mature, 
twofold  (threefold,  fourfold,  etc.)  and  double  (triple,  quadruple, 
etc.),  bodily  and  corporeal,  burdensome  and  onerous,  bloody  and 
sanguine,  boyish  and  puerile,  womanly  and  feminine,  fearful  and 
timid,  yearly  and  annual,  laughable,  ludicrous  and  ridiculous 
(the  last  with  the  additional  idea  of  contempt  mixed  with  merri- 
ment), inside  and  interior,  outside  and  exterior,  still,  tranquil 
and  quiet,  bold  and  brave,  mild,  meek  and  gentle,  holy  (Jialigj 
heilig),  pious  {pius),  devout  (devot^  devotus),  religious  (^rcUgiosus). 

Of  verbs  we  have  answer  and  respond,  bewail  and  lament,  get 
and  obtain,  heap  and  accumulate,  heal  and  cure,  forbid  and  pro- 
hibit, forsake  and  abandon  (the  latter  much  stronger,  like  giving 
up  hopelessly),  handle  and  manage,  hide  and  conceal,  happen 
and  occur,  hallow  and  sanctify,  make  up  and  constitute,  soften 
and  mollify,  rot  and  putrefy,  try  and  attempt,  whiten  and  blanch, 
unfold  and  develop,  wish  and  desire,  christen  (Greek  Saxon)  and 
baptize  (Greek  Latin),  hinder  and  prevent,  hold  and  contain, 
stick,  cleave  and  adhere,  waste  and  dissipate,  watch  and  observe, 
reckon  and  calculate,  die  and  expire,  outlive  and  survive. 

Sometimes  we  have  the  choice  between  a  Greek  and  Latin 
word,  as  between  apocalypse  and  revelation,  epitome  and  extract 
or  abridgment,  hypothesis  and  supposition,  sympathy  and  com- 
passion, theism  and  deism.  The  last  two  etymologically  are 
synonyms,  but  in  modern  usage  theism  has  assumed  a  peculiar 
philosophical  sense  implying  transcendent  personality  in  oppo- 
sition to  pantheism;  while  deism  is  more  particularly,  though 
arbitrarily,  applied  to  that  notion  of  the  Deity  which  puts  him 
outside  of  the  world  and  denies  a  special  revelation. 

The  careful  reader  of  the  Anglican  Common  Prayer  Book 
must  be  aware  of  the  frequent  use  of  the  Saxon  together  with 
its  corresponding  Latin  synonyms  in  those  portions  which  are 
not  translations  from  the  Latin,  but  original,  as  in  the  exhorta- 
tion to  the  confession  of  sin :  acknowledge  and  confess,  dissemble 
and  cloak,  humble  and  lowly,  goodness  and  mercy,  assemble  and 
meet  together.  This  may  be  attributed  to  the  desire  of  the  com- 
pilers of  that  admirable  Liturgy  to  reach  the  heart  of  all  classes 


54  THE   ENGLISH   LANGUAGE. 

of  the  people  at  a  time  when  the  language  was  yet  in  a  compara- 
tively unsettled  condition. 

PERFECTIBILITY. 

Finally,  the  composite  character  of  the  English  language  im- 
parts to  it  a  pliability,  expansiveness,  and  perfectibility  w^hich 
no  other  language  possesses.  Considering  its  age,  it  has  still  a 
considerable  power  of  assimilation  and  digestion.  Already  one 
of  the  most  copious  of  modern  languages,  with  a  vocabulary  of 
over  one  hundred  thousand  words,  it  is  still  increasing,  if  not  by 
organic  growth,  at  least  by  accretion.  It  has  a  craving  appetite 
and  is  as  rapacious  of  words  and  as  tolerant  of  forms  as  is  the 
Saxon  race  of  territory  and  religion.  It  imports  new  words 
from  all  languages,  as  the  English  and  Americans  import 
merchandise  from  all  portions  of  the  globe.  It  seizes  upon 
foreign  terms  as  they  are  needed,  subjects  them  at  once  to  all  the 
rules  of  the  vernacular,  and  naturalizes  them.  Or  it  coins  new 
words  from  the  German,  Latin,  and  French,  according  to  the 
etymological  laws  of  these  various  languages,  without  doing 
violence  to  its  own  laws. 

Thus  the  Germanizing  words  fatherland  for  native  land, 
handbook  for  manual,  standpoint  (StandpunJct)  for  point  of  view, 
churchly  and  churchliness  (not  to  be  confounded  with  the  Ang- 
lican party  terras  high-churchman  and  high-churchism,  but 
corresponding  to  kirchlich  and  Kirchlichkeit),  church  history 
{Kirchengeschichte)  for  ecclesiastical  history,  doctrine  history 
{Dogmengeschichte),  symbolics  (i.  e.,  comparative  dogmatics), 
apologetics,  world-historical  {weltgeschiGhtUGh),  church-historical 
(kirchengesGhichtlich)j  epoch-making  (epochemachend)),  neologlcal, 
rationalistic,  separatistic,  dogmatical,  chrlstologlcal,^  were  formed 
within  the  present  century,  mostly  in  America,  by  admirers  of 

'  Chrisfologjj,  however,  is  old  English,  as  Trench  proves  by  a  passage  from 
Dr.  Jackson,  of  the  seventeenth  century.  R.  Fleming  wrote  a  "  Christology  " 
in  1705,  in  3  vols.  Webster  has  it  in  his  dictionary,  bnt  limits  the  sense  l)y 
defining  it :  "A  discourse  or  treatise  concerning  Christ,"  The  term  rational ii<t, 
although  now  conveying  a  definite  historical  sense,  was  similarly  used  already 
in  Cromwell's  time,  of  a  sect  vfhich  made  reason  the  test  of  belief.  "  Wliat 
their  reason  dictates  to  them  in  Church  and  State  stands  for  good  until  they 
be  convinced  with  better." 


THE   ENGLISH   LANGUAGE.  55 

modern  German  literature  and  have  already  passed  into  general 
use.^ 

Then  we  have  a  number  of  Latin  formations,  unknown  to  the 
ancient  classics,  as  nonconformist,  nonconformity,  nonjuror,  non- 
residence,  nonsuit,  nondescript,  nonentity,  which  are  of  older 
date,  mostly  from  the  seventeenth  century ;  while  a  number  of 
similarly  coined  words,  omitted  by  Johnson,  ^V'alker,  and  Richard- 
son, but  embodied  in  Webster,  are  probably  of  American  origin, 
as  nonconductor,  nonexistence,  nonessential,  nonepiscopal,  non- 
elect  (a  Calvinistic  term),  nonelection  (a  political  term  used  by 
Jefferson  and  others  for  failure  of  an  election). 

COSMOPOLITAN  DESTINATION. 

All  these  peculiarities  of  the  English  point  out  its  cosmopolitan 
destination.  We  use  this  word,  of  course,  only  in  a  relative 
sense.  The  English  can  never  absorb  the  thousand  tongues  now 
spoken  on  earth.  Our  many-sided  humanity  will  never  be  con- 
tented with  one  speech.  The  difference  of  languages  and  dialects 
will  last  as  long  as  the  difference  of  nations  and  races.  The 
German,  the  French,  the  Spanish,  the  Russian,  will  expand  with 
the  nations  that  use  them. 

But  the  progress  of  humanity  and  of  Christianity  require  the 
preponderance  of  one  language  as  a  common  medium  of  interna- 
tional intercourse  and  a  connecting  link  between  the  various 
members  of  the  civilized  world. 

Such  a  sway  the  Greek  attained  in  the  countries  around  the 
Mediterranean  after  the  conquest  of  Alexander  the  Great,  and 
then  the  Latin  in  the  Western  Roman  empire  and  in  the  Catholic 
Church  during  the  Middle  Ages  down  to  the  Reformation. 
Since  the  time  of  Louis  XIV.  the  French  gained  the  ascendancy 
at  the  courts  and  in  all  the  higher  circles  of  Europe;  it  is  still 
the  language  of  diplomacy,  and  its  acquisition  is  a  necessity  for 
every  well-educated  gentleman ;  as  a  knowledge  of  the  German 
is  indispensable  to  a  scholar  on  account  of  its  invaluable  and 
ever-growing  literature. 

'Not  so  honorable  are  some  other  German  contributions,  as  sauerkraut, 
smierkds,  prezel,  and  lager-hier,  which  are  too  tonic  for  the  Anglo-American 
stomach. 


56  THE  ENGLISH  LANGUAGE. 

But  in  our  age  the  English  is  rapidly  becoming  the  world- 
language  and  extends  over  a  larger  territory  than  any  of  its 
predecessors,  with  every  prospect  of  a  steady  advance  for  the 
next  generations. 

It  is  spoken  by  a  greater  number  of  civilized  men  and 
Christians  than  any  other  speech,  and  establishes  its  peaceful 
empire  on  the  ruins  of  decaying  dialects  and  races.  Already  it 
holds  the  balance  of  power  among  the  tongues,  and  with  its 
literature  and  science  is  perpetually  circumnavigating  the  globe. 
It  is  emphatically  the  language  of  the  modern  age  and  of  the 
coming  age,  of  progressive  intelligence  and  civilization.  It  is 
the  prevailing  language  of  Christian  missions  in  heathen  lands. 
It  is  the  westernmost  branch  of  the  Aryan  family  of  languages, 
and 

' '  Westward  the  course  of  empire  takes  its  way. ' ' 

SPREAD  OF  THE  ENGLISH  LANGUAGE. 

The  English  is  now  spoken  in  England,  Scotland  and  Ireland, 
and  all  the  British  dependencies  in  Europe,  as  Heligoland,  Gib- 
raltar, Malta  and  Cyprus.  It  is  taught  as  a  regular  branch  of 
higher  education  in  the  best  Colleges  and  Universities  on  the 
continent  of  Europe,  and  in  all  commercial  cities,  and  is  rapidly 
gaining  on  the  French.  In  Egypt  it  has  acquired  new  strength 
through  the  construction  of  the  Suez  canal,  the  increasing  travel 
on  the  Nile,  and  the  suppression  of  Arabi  Pasha's  rebellion 
by  the  short,  sharp  and  decisive  English  campaign  of  1882.^  In 
Asia  it  follows  the  British  sway  and  the  highways  of  commerce 
to  the  vast  empire  of  East  India  with  its  two  hundred  millions 
of  heathen  and  Mohammedan  inhabitants,  who  exhibit  a  grow- 
ing desire  to  learn  the  language  of  their  rulers,  as  a  means  of 
promotion  and  medium  of  a  new  Anglo-Indian  literature.  I 
have  heard  converted  Brahmins  speak  and  preach  in  the  purest 

1  When  I  landed  at  Alexandria  some  years  ago,  a  Bedouin  recommended  me 
his  donkey,  called  ' '  Yankee  Doodle, ' '  because  ' '  he  speak  English. ' '  When  I 
ascended  the  great  pyramid  of  Gheezeh,  another  of  those  sons  of  the  desert 
amused  me  with  the  broken  fragments  of  half  a  dozen  languages,  the  English 
prevailing,  such  as  :  ^^Va piano ;^^  ^^Allez  doucemcnt ;^^  "  Go  ahead;"  "Half 
way  up;"  and  arriving  on  the  top  he  exclaimed:  "All  serene,"  "Well 
done,"  "  I  good  guide, "  "  You  good  man,"  "  Dear  doctor, "  "Baksheesh." 


THE   ENGLISPI   LANGUAGE.  57 

Anglo-Saxon.  It  is  largely  used  in  the  islands  and  seaports  of 
China  even  by  native  Chinese,  in  a  corrupt  form.  It  is  firmly 
established  in  Southern  Africa  and  extends  every  day  with  the 
widening  British  settlements  of  the  Cape  and  the  Western  coast, 
including  Sierra  Leone  and  Liberia,  where  American  influence 
co-operates  with  the  English  in  making  it  the  harbinger  of 
Christian  civilization  among  the  colored  races  of  that  mysterious 
continent,  which,  thanks  to  English-speaking  missionaries  like 
Livingstone  and  explorers  like  Stanley,  is  now  open  to  foreign 
immigration  and  development.  It  accompanies  the  British  navy 
and  merchant  ships  to  the  South  Sea,  and  must  ultimately 
replace  the  barbarous  native  dialects  of  Australia,  New  South 
Wales,  Van  Diemen's  Land,  New  Zealand  and  the  Polynesian 
group  of  islands,  as  the  natives  become  Christianized  and 
civilized.  The  empire  of  Japan  is  fast  getting  Anglicized  and 
Christianized.  The  English  has  become  the  court  language. 
A  New  York  publisher  is  shipping  every  year  50,000  American 
school-books  for  the  schools  of  Japan.  The  English  classics  are 
daily  read  in  countries  of  which  Shakespeare  and  Milton  never 
heard,  and  by  millions  who  but  recently  were  ignorant  of  the 
very  existence  of  England. 

If  we  look  to  the  American  hemisphere,  the  same  language 
prevails  in  all  the  British  possessions  of  North  America  from  the 
Atlantic  to  the  Pacific,  including  a  territory  of  over  three  millions 
and  four  hundred  thousand  square  miles  and  a  population  of 
about  five  millions,  and  increasing  very  rapidly  by  immigration. 
It  prevails  in  the  British  West  Indies  and  the  Bermuda  Islands. 

But  what  is  still  more  important,  the  English  is  now  and 
must  ever  remain  the  speech  of  the  great  Anglo-Saxon  Republic, 
from  Maine  to  California,  from  the  Northern  lakes  to  the  Gulf 
of  Mexico.  Every  other  language,  the  Indian  dialects,  the  Span- 
ish, the  Dutch,  the  Danish,  the  Swedish,  the  French,  and  even  the 
German,  are  being  swept  away  by  the  irresistible  current  of 
the  English  tongue.  The  German  and  Scandinavian  languages 
are  gaining  in  the  first  generation  by  constant  immigration,  but 
in  the  second  or  third  generation  they  are  losing;  while  the 
English,  without  an  act  of  tyranny  or  injustice  to  its  neighbors, 
without  any  eifort  even,  but  by  the   mere  silent  power  of  its 


58  THE   ENGLISH   LANGUAGE. 

presence,  is  daily  gaining  upon  them.  In  less  than  a  century 
our  nation  has  grown  from  three  to  fifty  millions  (in  1880),  and 
in  another  century  it  may  number  two  hundred  millions;  for 
the  overflow  of  all  European  nations  is  flowing  to  our  hospitable 
shores  and  adopting  our  tongue. 

'No  intelligent  immigrant  should  complain  of  this  course  of 
things  which  is  evidently  the  design  of  Providence.  .  The  unity 
of  language  tends  strongly  to  unite  and  consolidate  our  nation- 
ality, and  to  increase  our  power  and  influence.  And  as  no  other 
language  can  possibly  compete  with  this  rival  on  the  soil  of 
North  America,  the  Dutchmen,  Frenchmen,  Germans,  and  Scan- 
dinavians should  rejoice  that  the  English  rather  than  any  other 
language,  that  is,  the  very  language  which  comes  nearest  to  their 
own,  is  destined  ultimately  to  take  the  place  of  their  beloved 
mother  tongue*  The  Frenchman  will  naturally  prefer  his  native 
tongue  as  the  more  elegant  and  graceful,  but  he  may  derive 
comfort  from  the  fact  that  almost  one-fourth  of  his  own  vocabu- 
lary is  perpetuated  in  the  English.  The  German,  the  Hollander, 
the  Swede,  the  Norwegian  and  the  Dane  can  emphatically  say 
to  their  English  neighbor,  as  to  his  character  and  speech :  You 
are  flesh  of  my  flesh  and  bone  of  my  bone;  we  are  children  of 
the  same  Teutonic  mother,  and  we  will  thank  an  all-wise  Provi- 
dence which  has  reunited  our  energies  on  the  virgin  soil  of  a 
new  world  to  work  out  his  designs. 

Nor  should  we  overlook  the  fact  that  the  English  is  generally 
spoken  with  more  uniformity  and  purity  by  the  people  of  the 
United  States  than  even  in  England,  which  presents  a  variety 
of  dialects,  widely  differing  from  one  another,  like  the  Scottish 
and  the  Yorkshire  dialects.  We  have  hardly  any  traces  of 
different  dialects  and  provincialisms.  Neither  France,  nor  Ger- 
many, nor  Great  Britain  presents  such  a  unity  of  language  as 
our  own  country  as  far  as  it  uses  the  Saxon  tongue.^    And  as 

^  "  There  was  never  n,  case,"  says  W.  D.  Whitney  {Lanc/uage  and  the  Study 
of  Lan(jua(jc,  N.  Y.,  1867,  p.  172),  "in  which  so  nearly  the  same  language 
was  spoken  throughout  the  whole  mass  of  so  vast  a  i>opuhition  as  is  the 
English  now  in  America."  Tlie  differences  in  the  English  of  New  England, 
the  Southern  States,  the  Northwest  and  the  Pacific  coast,  arc  confnied  to  a 
limited  number  of  provincialisms,  and  affect  also  the  pronunciation,  ))ut  they 
are  not  sufficiently  marked  to  constitute  separate  dialects.     The  l^nglish  his- 


THE  ENGLISH   LANGUAGE.  59 

the  power  and  influence  of  our  institutions,  commerce,  literature 
and  art  grows  and  extends  with  the  rapidity  of  the  railroad  and 
telegraph,  our  national  language  follows  this  progress  step  by 
step,  even  to  the  soil  of  Liberia,  to  spread  thence  into  the  unex- 
plored interior,  to  turn  the  haunts  of  the  slaver  into  Christian 
homes,  and  the  curse  of  American  slavery,  now  happily  extin- 
guished by  the  blood  of  our  civil  war,  into  a  blessing  for 
Africa, 

The  English  is  also  the  language  of  the  ocean.  It  is  better 
understood  and  more  widely  spoken  than  any  other  tongue  on 
the  ships  which  cross  the  Atlantic,  or  Pacific,  the  Mediterranean, 
the  Suez  Canal,  the  Indian  and  Chinese  Seas.  Even  on  the 
Fjords  of  Norway  and  in  the  Gulf  of  Finland,  you  will  scarcely 
meet  a  captain  that  cannot  fluently  converse  in  English. 

The  Samoan  Conference,  held  this  year  (1889)  at  Berlin,  be- 
tween Germany,  Great  Britain  and  the  United  States,  marks  a 
new  departure  in  the  preference  given  to  English  for  diplomacy. 
Formerly  the  Latin  was  used  in  international  conferences  and 
treaties,  and  is  still  used  by  the  papal  court.  Then  the  French 
took  its  place  and  kept  it  in  all  international  conferences  till 
1878.  But  in  the  Samoan  conference,  for  the  first  time  on  the 
continent  of  Europe,  the  English  was  exclusively  used  in  the 
discussions  and  in  the  treaty.^  A  significant  fact  for  the  future. 
The  English  race  surpasses  all  others  in  successful  colonization 
and  commercial  enterprise,  and  hence  its  language  must  inevit- 
ably become  the  chief  organ  of  international  communication. 

torian,  Edward  A.  Freeman,  after  a  visit  to  the  United  States  in  1882,  wrote 
in  the  FortnighiJy  Eevicw  ;  "  I  never  found  any  difficulty  in  understanding  an 
American  speaker,  but  I  Lave  often  found  it  difficult  to  understand  a  Scotch 
or  even  a  northern  English  speaker.  The  American  speaks  my  own  language  ; 
he  speaks  my  own  dialect  of  that  language,  but  he  speaks  it  with  certain 
local  differences." 

^  The  conference  was  opened  in  French,  but  by  a  vote  of  six  to  three 
English  was  substituted  in  the  preliminary  negotiations  and  discussion^. 
The  American  and  British  Commissioners  naturally  preferred  their  own 
tongue,  and  as  Count  Herbert  Bismarck,  who,  as  ]\Iinister  of  Foreign  Affairs 
of  Germany,  presided  over  the  conference,  speaks  English  as  fluently  as  he 
does  German  and  French,  there  was  no  objection  to  the  wishes  of  the 
majority. 


60  THE  ENGLISH   LANGUAGE. 

PROVIDENTIAL   DESIGN. 

Who  could  have  dreamed  of  such  a  result  fourteen  hundred 
years  ago,  when  the  savage  heathen  Angles  and  Saxons  under 
the  lead  of  Hengist  and  Horsa  sailed  from  northern  Germany  to 
England,  or  eight  hundred  years  ago,  when  William  the  Bas- 
tard, a  semi-civilized  robber  and  pirate,  following  the  instincts 
of  his  Norman  ancestors,  subdued  the  island? 

Truly,  the  history  of  the  English  people  and  language  is  a 
wonderful  commentary  on  the  truth,  that  "  God's  ways  are  not 
our  ways."  Those  very  events  which  to  other  nations  would 
have  brought  ruin,  proved  a  blessing  to  England.  The  very 
absence  of  great  monarchs  (with  few  exceptions,  as  Alfred,  Eliz- 
abeth, Cromwell,  William  III.,  and  Victoria)  has  secured  to  her 
a  higher  degree  of  national  liberty  and  strength.  The  frequent 
changes  of  her  language  have  increased  its  wealth  and  enlarged 
its  destiny.  The  very  isolation  in  an  inhospitable  home  has 
promoted  the  cultivation  of  domestic  virtues,  the  development 
of  national  resources,  and  brought  out  that  power  of  self-govern- 
ment which  fitted  her  to  become  the  mistress  of  empires  in 
distant  parts  of  the  globe.  The  very  loss  of  the  American 
colonies  has  proved  a  gain  to  England  at  home,  and  still  more 
to  her  genius  and  language  under  a  new  and  independent  form  in 
this  new  world  of  freedom  and  of  the  future. 

THE   ENGLISH   LANGUAGE   AND   THE   BIBLE. 

Xever  was  a  nobler  mission  intrusted  to  any  language.  The 
crowning  glory  of  this  mission  is  its  intimate  connection  with  the 
triumph  of  the  Christian  religion  over  the  nations  of  the  earth. 

We  hold  in  the  highest  esteem  the  Greek  language  as  the  vehicle 
of  ancient  classical  culture  and  the  original  organ  of  the  everlast- 
ing truths  of  the  gos})el.  But  the  actual  use  of  the  Greek  Testa- 
ment and  the  Latin  Vulgate  dwindles  almost  into  insignificance 
before  the  circulation  of  the  common  English  Bible,  which  is 
scattered  by  hundreds  of  millions  of  copies  over  the  face  of  the 
earth. ^    Eor  general  accuracy,  popularity,  and  thorough  natural- 

^  It  is  estimated  that  in  England  alone  between  two  and  three  millions 
of  English  Bibles  are  printed  annually,  and  prohably  as  many  in  the  United 


THE   ENGLISH   LANGUAGE.  61 

ization  it  stands  unsurpassed  and  unequaled  among  all  the 
ancient  and  modern  translations  of  the  oracles  of  the  living  God, 
and  as  to  purity  and  beauty  of  diction  it  is  the  noblest  monu- 
ment of  English  literature.  And  though  it  may  be  superseded 
ultimately  by  the  Anglo-American  Revision  of  1881  in  its 
present  or  in  some  improved  shape,  we  must  remember  that  this 
is  not  a  new  version,  but  only  an  improvement  of  the  old,  and 
retains  the  idiom  of  the  version  of  1611  with  its  strong  hold 
upon  the  memory  and  affections  of  the  people.  Yea,  we  may 
say,  that  the  Revision  will  renew  the  youth  of  the  venerable 
mother,  and  make  her  even  a  greater  blessing  for  generations  to 
come  than  she  has  been  in  generations  past.  The  extraordinary 
interest  with  which  the  Revision  was  first  received  is  certainly 
a  most  hopeful  sign  of  the  times,  and  proves  beyond  controversy 
that  the  Bible  is  more  deeply  imbedded  in  the  affections  of  the 
English-speaking  race  and  more  inseparably  connected  with  its 
progress  and  prosperity  than  with  any  other  nation  of  the  world. 
Of  the  Revised  New  Testament  of  1881  about  three  millions  of 
copies  were  sold  in  less  than  a  year,  and  over  thirty  American 
reprints  appeared ;  yea,  the  greater  part  of  the  text  was  tele- 
graphed from  New  York  to  two  daily  papers  of  Chicago  in 
advance  of  the  arrival  of  the  book.  A  fact  without  a  parallel 
in  the  history  of  literature. 

The  Revision  is  sometimes  charged  with  sacrificing  idiomatic 
English  to  idiomatic  Greek,  and  rhythm  to  accuracy.  If  so,  it 
deserves  commendation,  for  truth  is  more  important  than  rhythm. 
But  the  objection  is  not  well  founded.  In  many  cases  the  rhythm 
has  been  improved.     Take  the  following  examples : — 

States,  where,  besides  the  Bible  House  in  New  York,  many  publishing  and 
printing  houses  are  exclusively  engaged  in  the  multiplication  of  Bibles.  In 
the  Bible  House  of  New  York  three  thousand  to  four  thousand  Bibles  are 
daily  manufactured.  In  1886  the  British  and  Foreign  Bible  Society  sold  and 
gave  away  568,610  whole  English  Bibles  and  1,123,903  English  New  Testa- 
ments, the  American  Bible  Society  295,769  English  Bibles  and  326,918 
English  New  Testaments  (all  of  the  authorized  version),  besides  a  large 
number  of  parts  (as  the  Psalter  and  the  Gospels).  The  works  which  come 
next  in  the  English  book  market  are  Bunyan's  Pilgrim's  Progress,  Robinson 
Crusoe,  and  Shakespeare.  Of  Shakespeare  about  twenty  thousand  copies  are 
said  to  be  annually  sold  in  England. 


62 


THE   ENGLISH   LANGUAGE. 


AUTHORIZED  VERSION.      Luke  VI.  49.      REVISED   VERSION. 


"But  he  tliat  licareth  and  doeth 
not,  is  like  a  man  that  without  a 
foundation  built  an  house  upon  the 
earth  :  against  which  the  stream  did 
beat  vehemently,  and  immediately 
it  fell,  and  the  ruin  of  that  house 
was  great. ' ' 


"But  he  that  heareth  and  doeth 
not,  is  like  a  man  that  built  a  house 
upon  the  earth  without  a  foundation; 
against  which  the  stream  brake,  and 
straightway  it  fell  in  ;  and  the  ruin 
of  that  house  was  great. ' ' 


AUTHORIZED   VERSION.       Matt.  VIII.   32.       REVISED   VERSION. 


"And  behold,  the  whole  herd  of 
swine  ran  violently  down  a  steep 
place  into  the  sea,  and  perished  in 
the  waters. ' ' 


"And  behold,  the  whole  herd 
rushed  down  the  steep  into  the  sea, 
and  perished  in  the  waters. ' ' 


Thess.  I.  11. 


"Fulfil  all  the  good  pleasure  of 
his  goodness,  and  the  work  of  faith 
with  power. ' ' 


' '  Fulfil  every  desire  of  goodness 
and  every  work  of  faith,  with 
power. ' ' 


Col  IV.  10. 
"Marcus,  sister's  son  to  Barna-  I       "  Mark,  the  cousin  of  Barnabas. " 
ba^."  I 

Rev.  VII.  17. 


Unto  living  fountains  of  water. ' ' 


' '  Unto   fountains   of   waters  of 
life." 


But  the  Authorized  Version  has  the  great  advantage  of  vener- 
able age  and  sacred  associations,  which  in  the  minds  of  many 
conservative  Bible  readers  far  outweigh  its  imperfections,  and 
will  long  keep  it  in  private  and  public  use.  It  fully  deserves  the 
eulogy  of  the  ardent  hymnist,  Frederick  W.  Faber,  who  after 
his  secession  to  Rome  could  not  forget  "  the  uncommon  beauty 
and  marvelous  English  of  the  Protestant  Bible,"  and  who  said 
of  it  with  as  much  beauty  as  truth :  "  It  lives  on  the  ear  like 
a  music  that  can  never  be  forgotten,  like  the  sound  of  church 
bells,  which  the  convert  hardly  knows  how  he  can  forego. 
Its  felicities  often  seem  to  be  almost  things  rather  than  mere 
words.  The  memory  of  the  dead  passes  into  it.  The  potent 
traditions  of  childhood  are  stereotyped  in  its  verses.  The  power 
of  all  the  griefs  and  trials  of  man  is  hidden  beneath  its  words. 


THE   ENGLISH   LANGUAGE.  63 

It  is  the  representative  of  his  best  moments,  and  all  that  there 
has  been  about  him  of  soft,  and  gentle,  and  pure,  and  penitent, 
and  good,  speaks  to  him  forever  out  of  his  English  Bible/' 

CONCLUSION. 
The  progress  of  the  language  of  Great  Britain  and  America 
is  the  progress  of  commerce  and  industry,  of  a  rich  and  healthy 
literature,  of  the  arts  and  sciences,  of  the  highest  form  of  civili- 
zation known  in  history,  of  the  power  of  self-government,  of 
civil  and  religious  freedom,  of  domestic  virtue,  of  happy  homes, 
of  active  philanthropy,  of  national  prosperity,  and  of  the  truths 
of  Christianity,  bearing  on  its  banner  the  angelic  inscription : — 

"  Glory  to  God  in  the  highest, 
Peace  on  earth  among  men  of  his  good  pleasure. ' ' 

Well  may  we  bid  Godspeed  to  the  progress  of  the  Anglo- 
Norman  and  Anglo-American  tongue,  as  the  chief  organ  for  the 
spread  of  Christian  civilization. 

"Go  forth,  then,  noble  Saxon  tongue. 

And  speed  the  happy  time 
When  truth  and  righteousness  shall  reign 

In  every  zone  and  clime  ; 
When  earth's  oppressed  and  savage  tribes 

Shall  cease  to  pine  and  roam, 
All  taught  to  prize  the  English  words : 

Faith,  Freedom,  Heaven,  and  HomOo" 


THE  POETEY  OF  THE  BIBLE. 

OEIGIN  OF  POETRY  AND  MUSIC. 

Poetry  and  music  are  the  highest  and  most  spiritual  of  the 
fine  arts.  They  are  twin  sisters.  They  hail  from  a  prehistoric 
age.  The  Bible  traces  their  origin  to  the  celestial  world.  When 
man  was  created  in  God's  image,  "  the  morning  stars  sang 
together,  and  all  the  sons  of  God  shouted  for  joy.''  Christianity 
was  sung  into  the  world  by  an  anthem  of  the  angelic  host. 

Raphael  paints  St.  Cecilia,  the  patroness  of  church  music,  as 
standing  between  St.  Paul  and  St.  John,  St.  Augustin  and  Mary 
Magdalene,  as  holding  an  organ  in  her  hands,  and  listening  with 
rapture  to  a  higher  and  sweeter  chorus  of  six  angels  in  heaven. 
The  master-compositions  of  Handel,  Mozart,  and  Beethoven 
make  the  impression  of  supernatural  inspiration,  and  sound  like 
voices  from  a  higher  and  purer  world.  We  may  call  the  crea- 
tions of  music,  to  use  the  language  of  a  great  English  divine^ — 
"  the  outpourings  of  eternal  harmony  in  the  medium  of  created 
sound ;  they  are  echoes  from  our  Home ;  they  are  the  voice  of 
Angels,  or  the  Magnificat  of  Saints,  or  the  living  laws  of  Divine 
governance,  or  the  Divine  attributes ;  something  are  they  beside 
themselves,  which  we  cannot  compass,  which  we  cannot  utter — 
though  mortal  man,  and  he  perhaps  not  otherwise  distinguished 
above  his  fellows,  has  the  gift  of  eliciting  them." 

As  poetry  and  music  began  in  heaven,  so  they  will  end,  with- 
out end,  in  heaven  and  constitute  an  unfailing  fountain  of  joy 
and  bliss  to  the  innumerable  army  of  the  redeemed. 

In  these  arts  the  power  of  creation  is  continued.  Every  true 
poet,  as  the  word  indicates,^  is  a  maker  or  creator.  To  create 
anything  out  of  nothing  is  indeed  the  sole  prerogative  of  the 
Almighty.  But  the  poet  recreates  out  of  existing  material.  He 
has  at  his  command  the  starry  heavens  and  flowery  fields,  the 

^  Cardinal  Newman,  in  the  last  of  his  sermons  preached  in  the  University 
of  Oxford  (1843).  ^  7r()/;/r/>;,  from  -ottu)^  to  make,  to  create. 

01 


THE   POETRY   OF   THE   BIBLE.  65 

snow-capped  mountains  and  fertile  valleys,  the  boundless  ocean 
and  the  murmuring  brook,  the  beauties  of  nature  and  the  experi- 
ences of  history,  the  feelings  and  passions  of  individuals  and  the 
rise  and  fall  of  nations ;  out  of  these  exhaustless  stores  he  con- 
structs an  ideal  world  of  beauty  for  the  delight  of  man. 

This  creative  power  of  poetry  has  found  classic  expression  in 
the  passage  of  Shakespeare,  who  himself  possessed  it  in  a  most 
eminent  degree : — 

"The  poet's  eye,  in  a  fine  frenzy  rolling, 
Doth  glance  from  heaven  to  earth,  from  earth  to  heaven, 
And  as  imagination  bodies  forth 
The  forms  of  things  unknown,  the  poet's  pen 
Turns  them  to  shapes,  and  gives  to  airy  nothing 
A  local  habitation  and  a  name." 

POETRY  AND  INSPIRATION. 
In  a  wider  sense  all  true  poetry  is  inspired  by  a  higher  power. 
The  poet  and  the  prophet  are  akin.  They  were  regarded  by  the 
Greeks  as  friends  of  the  gods ;  and  all  ceremonies,  oracles  and 
mysteries  of  religion  were  clothed  in  poetic  dress.  They  often 
give  utterance  to  ideas  which  they  do  not  fully  understand. 
Their  genius  is  carried  beyond  the  ordinary  consciousness  and 
self-possession;  it  soars  above  the  clouds;  it  moves  in  an  ecstatic 
condition  of  mind,  bordering  on  madness. 

"  Great  wits  to  madness,  sure,  are  near  allied. 
And  thin  partitions  do  their  wails  divide. ' '  ^ 

Goethe  makes  the  remark  that  ^'  the  unconscious "  is  the 
deepest  element  in  poetry,  and  that  his  tragedy  of  Faust  pro- 
ceeded from  a  '^  dark  state  ^'  of  his  mind. 

There  is,  however,  a  twofold  inspiration.  Divine  and  Satanic. 
The  poetry  which  administers  to  the  sensual  passions,  which 
idolizes  the  creature,  which  ridicules  virtue  and  makes  vice  lovely 
and  attractive,  is  the  product  of  the  evil  spirit. 

POETRY  AND  RELIGION. 
Poetry  and  music  came  from  the  same  God  as  religion,  and 
are  intended  for  the  same  holy  end.     They  are  the  handmaids 

^  Drydeu. 
5 


66  THE   POETRY   OF   THE   BIBLE. 

of  religion,  and  the  wings  of  devotion.  Nothing  can  be  more 
preposterous  than  to  assume  an  antagonism  between  them.  The 
abuse  can  never  set  aside  the  right  use.  The  best  gifts  of  God 
are  liable  to  the  worst  abuse. 

Some  have  the  false  notion  that  poetry  is  necessarily  fictitious 
and  antagonistic  to  truth.  But  poetry  is  the  fittest  expression 
of  truth;  it  is  the  truth  in  festal  dress,  the  silver  picture  of  the 
golden  apple,  the  ideal  embodied  in  and  shining  through  the 
real. 

''  Let  tliose,"  says  Lowth,  "  who  affect  to  despise  the  Muses, 
cease  to  attempt,  for  the  vices  of  a  few  who  may  abuse  the  best 
of  things,  to  bring  into  disrepute  a  most  laudable  talent.  Let 
them  cease  to  speak  of  that  art  as  light  and  trifling  in  itself,  to 
accuse  it  as  profane  or  impious ;  that  art  which  has  been  con- 
ceded to  man  by  the  favor  of  his  Creator,  and  for  the  most 
sacred  purposes;  that  art,  consecrated  by  the  authority  of  God 
Himself,  and  by  His  example  in  His  most  august  ministrations."^ 
Dean  Stanley  says  :  ^  "  There  has  always  been,  in  certain  minds, 
a  repugnance  to  poetry,  as  inconsistent  with  the  gravity  of  religious 
feeling.  It  has  been  sometimes  thought  that  to  speak  of  a  book 
of  the  Bible  as  poetical,  is  a  disparagement  of  it.  It  has  been 
in  many  churches  thought  that  the  more  scholastic,  dry  and  pro- 
saic the  forms  in  which  religious  doctrine  is  thrown,  the  more 
faithfully  is  its  substance  represented.  To  such  sentiments  the 
towering  greatness  of  David,  the  acknowledged  preeminence  of 
the  Psalter,  are  constant  rebukes.  David,  beyond  king,  soldier 
or  prophet,  was  the  sweet  singer  of  Israel.  Llad  Raphael 
painted  a  picture  of  Hebrew  as  of  European  Poetry,  David 
would  have  sat  aloft  at  the  summit  of  the  Hebrew  Parnassus, 
the  Homer  of  Jewish  song." 

THE  POETRY  OF  THE  BIBLE. 

The  Jews  paid  little  attention  to  the  arts  of  design  ;  sculpture 

and  painting  were  forbidden  in  the  second  commandment,  on 

account  of  the  danger  of  idolatry.     For  the  same  reason  they 

are  forbidden  among  the  Moslems.     As  to  architecture,  the  only 

^  Lectures  on  Hebrew  Poetry^  Stowe's  ed.,  p.  28. 

2  Uisiory  of  the  Jewish  Churchy  Vol.  II.,  p.  164,  Am.  ed. 


THE   rOETRY   OF   THE   BIBLE.  67 

great  and  beautiful  work  of  this  art  was  the  temple  of  Jerusalem. 
Nothii]<2:  can  be  more  strikino^  to  a  traveller  than  the  contrast 
between  Egypt  covered  all  over  with  ruins  of  temples,  statues 
and  pictures  of  the  gods,  and  Palestine  which  has  no  such  ruins. 
The  remains  of  the  few  synagogues  are  of  the  plainest  kind  and 
destitute  of  all  ornament. 

But  in  poetry  the  case  is  reversed.  Of  all  ancient  nations, 
except  the  Greeks,  the  Hebrews  have  by  far  tlie  richest  poetry, 
and  in  religious  poetry  they  greatly  excel  the  Hindoos,  Persians, 
Egyptians,  Greeks  and  Romans. 

More  than  one-third  of  the  Old  Testament  is  poetry.  This 
fact  is  concealed  and  much  of  the  beauty  of  the  Bible  lost  to 
English  readers  by  the  absence  of  quantity,  metre  and  rhyme, 
and  by  the  uniform  printing  of  poetry  and  prose  in  our  popular 
Bibles.  The  current  versicular  division  is  mechanical  and  does 
not  correspond  to  the  metrical  structure  of  Hebrew  poetry. 
The  Revised  Version  corrects  the  defect,  at  least  in  part,  namely 
in  the  book  of  Job  and  in  the  Psalter,  iu  the  poems  scattered 
through  the  historical  books,  as  Gen.  iv.  23-24;  xlix.  2-27; 
Ex.  XV.  1-21;  Deut.  xxxii.  1-43;  xxxiii.  2-29;  Judges  v. 
2-31,  etc.,  and  in  a  few  lyric  sections  of  the  Prophets  (Jonah  iv. 
2-10;  Habakkuk  iii.  2-19).  The  same  method  ought  to  have 
been  carried  through  the  Prophets,  all  of  whom,  except  Daniel, 
delivered  the  prophetic  messages  in  poetry. 

The  older  commentators  and  divines  paid  little  or  no  attention 
to  the  literary  and  aesthetic  features  of  the  Bible.  The  study  of 
Hebrew  poetry  as  poetry  is  comparatively  recent  and  dates  from 
the  middle  of  the  eighteenth  century,  although  its  power  and 
beauty  were  felt  long  before.  Lowth,  Herder  and  Ewald  are 
the  first  masters  in  this  department  of  Biblical  literature. 

The  poetry  of  the  Okl  Testament  is  contained  in  the  Poetical 
Books,  which  in  the  Jewish  Canon  are  included  among  the 
Hagiographa  or  Holy  Writings.  They  embrace  the  Book  of 
Job,  the  Psalter,  the  Proverbs,  Ecclesiastes,  and  the  Song  of 
Solomon.  Besides  these  the  Lamentations  of  Jeremiah  and  most 
of  the  Prophets  are  likewise  poetic  in  sentiment  and  form,  or  they 
vibrate  between  poetry  and  prose.  A  number  of  lyric  songs, 
odes,  and  prophecies  are  scattered  through  the  historical  books. 


68  THE   POETRY   OF   THE   BIBLE. 

The  poetic  sections  of  the  New  Testament  are  the  Magnifieaf 
of  the  blessed  Virgin,  the  Benedidus  of  Zachariah,  the  Gloria 
in  Excelsis  of  the  Angels,  the  Nuno  Dimittis  of  Simeon,  the 
Parables  of  our  Lord,  the  Anthems  of  the  Apocalypse,  and 
several  poetic  quotations  in  the  Epistles. 

But  we  may  say  that  the  whole  Bible  is  cast  in  a  poetic 
mould.  The  Hebrews  were  a  highly  imaginative  people.  The 
Hebrew  language,  as  Herder  says,  is  itself  a  poem.  Some  of 
the  prose  of  the  Bible  is  equal  to  the  best  poetry,  and  blends 
truth  and  beauty  in  harmony.  It  approaches  also,  in  touching^ 
the  highest  themes,  the  rhythmical  form  of  Hebrew  poetry,  and 
may  be  arranged  according  to  the  parallelism  of  members. 
Moses  was  a  poet  as  well  as  an  historian.  Every  prophet  or 
seer  is  a  poet,  though  not  every  poet  is  a  prophet.^ 

The  prose  of  the  New  Testament  is  no  less  poetic  than  that 
of  the  Old.  What  can  be  at  once  more  truthful,  more  eloquent, 
and  more  beautiful  than  the  Beatitudes  and  the  whole  Sermon 
on  the  Mount,  the  Parables  of  our  Lord,  the  Prologue  of  St. 
John,  the  seraphic  description  of  love  by  St.  Paul,  and  his  tri- 
umphant pgean  at  the  close  of  the  eighth  chapter  of  the  Epistle 
to  the  Eomans  ?  In  the  opinion  of  Erasmus,  an  excellent  judge 
of  literary  merit,  Paul  was  more  eloquent  than  Cicero.^ 

In  this  wider  sense  the  Bible  begins  and  ends  with  poetry, 
and  clothes  the  first  and  last  facts  of  Divine  revelation  in  the 
garb  of  beauty.  The  retrospective  vision  of  the  first  creation 
and  the  prospective  vision  of  the  new  heavens  and  the  new 
earth  are  presented  in  language  which  rises  to  the  summit  of 
poetic  sublimity  and  power.  There  is  nothing  more  pregnant 
and  sublime  in  thought,  and  at  the  same  time  more  terse  and 
classical  in  expression,  than  the  sentence  of  the  Creator  : — 

"Let  there  be  light !  And  there  was  light. " 

There  can  be  no  nobler  and  higher  conception  of  man  than 

*  Isaac  Taylor  says  {The  Spirit  of  Hebrew  Podnj,  page  68)  :  "Biblical 
utterances  of  the  first  truths  iu  theology  possess  tlie  grandeur  of  the  lofti- 
est poetry,  as  well  as  a  rliythmical  or  artificial  structure." 

2"  Quid  unquaia  Cicero  dixit  grandiloquent  ins  ?^^  says  Erasmus,  in  reference 
to  the  eightli  chapter  of  Romans.  The  heathen  Lougiuus  placed  l*aul  among 
the  greatest  orators. 


THE   POETKY   OF   THE   BIBLE.  69 

that  witli  which  the  Bible  introduces  him  into  the  world  as  the 
very  image  and  likeness  of  the  infinite  God.  And  the  idea  of 
a  paradise  of  innocence,  love  and  peace  at  the  threshold  of 
history  is  poetry  as  well  as  reality,  casting  its  sunshine  over  the 
gloom  of  the  fall,  and  opening  the  prospect  of  a  future  paradise 
regained.  Then,  passing  from  the  first  chapter  of  Genesis  to  the 
last  of  the  Apocalypse,  how  lovely  and  comforting  is  St.  John's 
description  of  the  New  Jerusalem.  It  has  inspired  those  hymns 
of  heavenly  homesickness,  from  ^'  Ad  perennis  vitce  fontem  "  to 
"  Jerusalem  the  Golden,"  which  cheer  the  weary  pilgrim  on  his 
home-bound  journey  through  the  wilderness  of  life. 

The  poetry  of  the  Old  Testament  has  always  been  an  essential 
part  of  Jewish  and  Christian  worship.  The  Psalter  was  the 
first,  and  for  many  centuries  the  only  hymn-book  of  the  Church. 
It  is  the  most  fruitful  source  of  Christian  hymnody.  Many  of 
the  finest  English  and  German  hymns  are  free  reproductions  of 
Hebrew  psalms ;  the  23d  Psalm  alone  has  furnished  the  keynote 
to  a  large  number  of  Christian  hymns,  and  the  46th  Psalm  to 
Luther's  masterpiece : — 

"^m'  feste  Burg  ist  unser  Gott''^ 

As  among  other  nations,  so  among  the  Jews,  poetry  was  the 
oldest  form  of  composition.  It  precedes  prose,  as  youth  precedes 
manhood,  and  as  feeling  and  imagination  are  active  before  sober 
reflection  and  logical  reasoning. 

Much  of  the  Hebrew  poetry  is  lost.  Solomon  composed  a 
thousand  and  five  songs  (1  Kings  iv.  32).  "  The  Bool«  of  the 
Wars  of  Jehovah''  (Num.  xxi.  14)  and  "The  Book  of  Jashar," 
or  the  Upright  (Josh.  x.  13  ;  2  Sam.  i.  18)  were  at  least  partly 
poetic.  Jeremiah  composed  an  elegy  for  Josiah  (2  Chron. 
XXXV.  25). 

Poetry  and  music  were  closely  connected,  and  accompanied 
domestic  and  social  life  in  seasons  of  joy  and  sorrow.  They 
cheered  the  wedding,  the  harvest  and  other  feasts  (Jos.  ix.  3; 
Judg.  xxi.  19;  Amos  vi.  5;  Ps.  iv.  8).  They  celebrated  victory 
after  a  battle,  as  the  song  of  Moses,  Ex.  xv.,  and  the  song  of 
Deborah,  Judg.  v. ;  they  greeted  the  victor  on  his  return,  1  Sam. 
xviii.  8.     The  shepherd  sung  while  watching  his  flock,  the  hunter 


70  THE   POETRY   OF   THE   BIBLE. 

in  the  pursuit  of  his  prey.  Maidens  deplored  the  death  of  Jeph- 
thah's  daughter  in  songs  (Judg.  xi.  40),  and  David,  the  death  of 
Saul  and  Jonathan  (2  Sam.  i.  18),  and  afterward  of  Abner  (2 
Sara.  iii.  33).  Love  was  the  theme  of  a  nobler  inspiration  than 
among  the  sensual  Greeks,  and  the  Song  celebrates  the  Hebrew 
ideal  of  pure  bridal  love,  as  reflecting  the  love  of  Jehovah  to 
His  people,  and  prefiguring  the  union  of  Christ  with  His  church. 

THE  SPIRIT  OF  BIBLE  POETRY. 

The  poetry  of  the  Bible  is  in  the  highest  and  best  sense  the 
poetry  of  revelation  and  inspiration.  It  is  animated  by  the 
genius  of  the  true  religion,  by  the  Spirit  of  Jehovah  ;  and  hence 
rises  far  above  the  religious  poetry  of  the  Hindoos,  Parsees  and 
Greeks,  as  the  religion  of  revelation  is  above  the  religion  of 
nature,  and  the  God  of  the  Bible  above  the  idols  of  the  heathen. 
It  is  the  poetry  of  truth  and  holiness.  It  never  administers  to 
trifling  vanities  and  lower  passions ;  it  is  the  chaste  and  spotless 
priestess  at  the  altar.  It  reveals  the  mysteries  of  the  Divine 
will  to  man,  and  ofi^ers  up  man^s  prayers  and  thanks  to  his 
Maker.  It  is  consecrated  to  the  glory  of  Jehovah  and  the 
moral  perfection  of  man. 

The  most  obvious  feature  of  Bible  poetry  is  its  intense  Theism. 
The  question  of  the  existence  of  God  is  never  raised,  and  an 
atheist  is  simply  set  down  as  a  fool  (Ps.  xiv.).  The  Hebrew 
poet  lives  and  moves  in  the  idea  of  a  living  God,  as  a  self- 
revealing,  personal,  almighty,  holy,  omniscient,  all-pervading 
and  merciful  Being,  and  overflows  with  his  adoration  and  praise. 
He  sees  and  hears  God  in  the  works  of  creation  and  in  the 
events  of  history.  Jehovah  is  to  him  the  Maker  and  Preserver 
of  all  things.  He  shines  in  the  firmament ;  He  rides  on  the 
thunder-storm;  He  clothes  the  lilies ;  He  feeds  the  ravens  and 
young  lions,  and  the  cattle  on  a  thousand  hills ;  He  gives  rain 
and  fruitful  seasons.  He  is  the  God  of  Abraham,  Isaac  and 
Jacob,  of  Moses,  David,  and  the  Prophets.  He  is  the  ever- 
present  help  and  shield,  the  comfort  and  joy  of  Israel.  He  is 
just  and  holy  in  His  judgments,  good,  merciful  and  true  in  all 
His  dealings.  He  rules  and  overrules  even  the  wrath  of  man 
for  His  own  glory  and  the  good  of  His  people. 


THE   POETRY   OF   THE   BIBLE.  71 

To  this  all-prevailing  Theism  corresponds  the  anthropology 
and  ethics  of  the  Bible.  Man  is  always  represented  under  his 
most  important  moral  and  religious  relations,  in  the  state  of 
innocence,  in  the  terrible  slavery  of  sin,  and  in  the  process  of 
redemption  and  restoration  to  more  than  his  original  glory  and 
dominion  over  the  creation.  Hebrew  poetry  reflects  in  fresh 
and  life-like  colors  the  working  of  God^s  law  and  promise  on 
the  heart  of  the  pious,  and  every  state  of  his  experience,  the 
deep  emotions  of  repentance  and  grief,  faith  and  trust,  gratitude 
and  praise,  hope  and  aspiration,  love  and  peace. 

Another  characteristic  of  Bible  poetry  is  the  combination  of 
childlike  simplicity  and  sublimity.  The  grandest  ideas  are  set 
forth  and  brought  home  to  the  heart  of  every  reader  who  has  a 
lively  organ  for  religious  truth.  The  Psalms  and  the  Parables 
are  alike  suited  to  the  capacity  of  the  young  and  the  old,  the 
cultured  and  the  uncultured.  They  are  popular  and  yet  ele- 
vated, luminous  and  yet  profound,  easily  comprehended  and  yet 
inexhaustibly  deep.  We  never  get  tired  of  them,  and  every 
reading  reveals  new  treasures. 

More  than  this,  the  Bible  poetry  has  a  cosmopolitan  character 
and  a  universal  interest.  It  is  as  well  adapted  to  Christians  in 
America  in  this  nineteenth  century  as  it  was  to  the  Jews  in 
Palestine  centuries  before  Christ. 

The  scenery  and  style  are  thoroughly  oriental  and  Hebrew, 
and  yet  they  can  be  translated  into  every  language  without 
losing  by  the  process — which  cannot  be  said  of  any  other  poetry. 
Greek  and  Roman  poetry  have  more  art  and  variety,  more  ele- 
gance and  finish,  but  no  such  popularity,  catholicity  and  adapta- 
bility. The  heart  of  humanity  beats  in  the  Hebrew  poet.  It 
is  true,  his  experience  falls  far  short  of  that  of  the  Christian. 
Yet  nearly  every  phase  of  Old  Testament  piety  strikes  a  corres- 
ponding chord  in  the  soul  of  the  Christian ;  and  such  are  the 
depths  of  the  Divine  Spirit  who  guided  the  genius  of  the  sacred 
singers  that  their  words  convey  far  more  than  they  themselves 
were  conscious  of,  and  reach  prophetically  forward  into  the  most 
distant  future. 

All  this  applies  with  special  force  to  the  Psalter,  the  holy  of 
holies  in  Hebrew  poetry,  and  in  the  Psalter  to  the  psalms  which 


72  THE   POETEY   OF  THE  BIBLE. 

bear  the  name  of  David,  "  the  singer  of  Israel."  He  was  placed 
by  Providence  in  the  different  situations  of  shepherd,  courtier, 
outlaw,  warrior,  conqueror,  king,  that  he  might  the  more  vividly 
set  forth  Jehovah  as  the  Good  Shepherd,  the  ever-present 
Helper,  the  mighty  Conqueror,  the  just  and  merciful  Sovereign. 
He  was  open  to  all  the  emotions  of  friendship  and  love,  gene- 
rosity and  mercy ;  he  enjoyed  the  highest  joys  and  honors ;  he 
suffered  poverty,  persecution  and  exile,  the  loss  of  his  dearest 
friend,  treason  and  rebellion  from  his  own  son.  Even  his 
changing  moods  and  passions,  his  sins  and  crimes,  which  with 
their  swift  and  fearful  punishments  form  a  domestic  tragedy  of 
rare  terror  and  pathos,  were  overruled  and  turned  into  lessons 
of  humility,  comfort  and  gratitude.  All  this  rich  spiritual 
biography  from  his  early  youth  to  his  old  age,  together  with 
God's  merciful  dealings  with  him,  are  written  in  his  hymns, 
though  with  reference  to  his  inward  states  of  mind  rather  than 
his  outward  condition,  so  that  readers  of  very  different  situation 
or  position  in  life  might  yet  be  able  to  sympathize  with  the 
feelings  and  emotions  expressed.  His  hymns  give  us  a  deeper 
glance  into  his  inmost  heart  and  his  secret  communion  with  God 
than  the  narrative  of  his  life  in  the  historical  books.  They  are 
remarkable  for  simplicity,  freshness,  vivacity,  warmth,  depth 
and  vigor  of  feeling,  childlike  tenderness  and  heroic  faith,  and 
the  all-pervading  fear  and  love  of  God.  ^'  In  all  his  works," 
says  the  author  of  Ecclesiasticus  (xlvii.  8-12),  "he  praised  the 
Holy  One;  to  the  Most  High  he  sang  with  all  his  heart  in 
words  of  glory,  and  loved  Him  that  made  him.  He  set  singers 
also  before  the  altar,  that  by  their  voices  they  might  make  sweet 
melody  and  daily  sing  praises  in  their  songs.  He  beautified 
their  feasts  and  set  in  order  the  solemn  times  until  the  end,  that 
they  might  praise  His  holy  name,  and  make  the  temple  resound 
from  the  morning.  The  Lord  took  away  his  sins  and  exalted 
his  horn  forever;  He  gave  him  a  covenant  of  kings  and  a  throne 
of  glory  in  Israel. '^  ^ 

^  Comp.  Ewald's  admirable  portrait  of  David  as  a  poet,  in  the  first  volume 
of  Die  JJichier  (Ics  A.  B.,  p.  25.  Dean  Perowne,  in  liis  Commentary  on  the 
Psalms,  Vol.  I.,  pp.  8,  9,  third  ed.  (1873),  gives  this  truthful  description  of 
him  :   "As  David's  life  shines  in  his  poetry,  so  also  does  his  character.    That 


THE   POETRY   OF  THE   BIBLE.  73 

This  inseparable  union  with  religion,  with  truth  and  holiness, 
gives  to  Hebrew  poetry  an  enduring  charm  and  undying  power 
for  good  in  all  ages  and  countries.  It  never  gets  out  of  date, 
and  never  grows  old.  The  dew  of  youth  is  upon  it.  It  brings 
us  into  the  immediate  presence  of  the  great  Jehovah,  it  raises  us 
above  the  miseries  of  earth,  it  dispels  the  clouds  of  darkness;  it 
inspires,  ennobles,  purifies  and  imparts  peace  and  joy;  it  giv^es 
us  a  foretaste  of  heaven  itself.  Ewald  truly  says  of  Hebrew 
poetry  :  "  It  is  the  interpreter  of  the  sublimest  religious  ideas 
for  all  times,  and  herein  lies  its  most  important  and  imperish- 
able value.^'  ^ 

In  this  respect  the  poetry  of  the  Bible  is  as  far  above  classic 
poetry  as  the  Bible  itself  is  above  all  other  books.  Homer  and 
Virgil  dwindle  into  insignificance  as  compared  with  David  and 
Asaph,  if  we  look  to  the  moral  effect  upon  the  heart  and  the  life 

character  -was  no  commou  one.  It  was  strong  Tvith  all  the  strength  of  man, 
tender  with  all  the  tenderness  of  woman.  Naturally  brave,  his  courage  was 
heightened  and  confirmed  by  that  foitli  in  Grod  which  never,  in  the  worst 
extremity,  forsook  him.  Naturally  warm-hearted,  his  affections  struck  their 
roots  deep  into  the  innermost  centre  of  his  being.  In  his  love  for  his  parents, 
for  whom  he  provided  in  his  own  extreme  peril — in  his  love  for  his  wife 
^Michal — for  his  friend  Jonathan,  whom  he  loved  as  his  own  soul — for  his 
darling  Absalom,  whose  death  almost  broke  his  heart — even  for  the  infant 
whose  loss  he  dreaded; — we  see  the  same  man,  the  same  depth  and  truth,  the 
same  tenderness  of  personal  affection.  On  the  other  hand,  when  stung  with 
a  sense  of  wrong  or  injustice,  his  sense  of  which  was  peculiarly  keen,  he  could 
flash  ont  into  strong  words  and  strong  deeds.  He  could  hate  with  the  same 
fervor  that  he  loved.  Evil  men  and  evil  things,  all  that  was  at  war  with 
goodness  and  with  God — for  these  he  found  no  abhorrence  too  deep,  scarcely 
any  imprecations  too  strong.  Yet  he  was,  withal,  placable  and  ready  to 
forgive.  He  could  exercise  a  prudent  self-control,  if  he  was  occasionally  im- 
petuous. His  true  courtesy,  his  chivalrous  generosity  to  his  foes,  his  rare 
delicac}',  his  rare  self-denial,  are  all  traits  which  present  themselves  most 
forcibly  as  we  read  his  history.  He  is  the  truest  of  heroes  in  the  genuine 
elevation  of  his  character,  no  less  than  in  the  extraordinary  incidents  of  his 
life.  Such  a  man  cannot  wear  a  mask  in  his  writings.  Depth,  tenderness, 
fervor,  mark  all  his  poems." 

^  Winer,  too,  derives  from  the  religious  character  of  Hebrew  poetry  its 
"sublime  flight  and  never-dying  beauty."  Angus  says:  "The  peculiar 
excellence  of  the  Hebrew  poetry  is  to  be  ascribed  to  the  employment  of  it  in 
the  noblest  service,  that  of  religion.  It  presents  the  loftiest  and  most  precious 
truths,  expressed  in  the  most  appropriate  language." 


74  THE   POETEY   OF   THE   BIBLE. 

of  the  reader.  The  classic  poets  reach  only  a  small  and  cultured 
class ;  but  the  singers  of  the  Bible  come  home  to  men  of  every 
grade  of  education,  every  race  and  color,  every  condition  of  life, 
and  every  creed  and  sect.  The  Psalter  is,  as  Luther  calls  it, 
^'  a  manual  of  all  the  saints,"  where  each  one  finds  the  most 
truthful  description  of  his  own  situation,  especially  in  seasons  of 
affliction.  It  has  retained  its  hold  upon  the  veneration  and 
affections  of  pious  Jews  and  Christians  for  these  three  thousand 
years,  and  is  even  now  and  will  ever  be  more  extensively  used 
as  a  guide  of  private  devotion  and  public  worship  than  any  other 
book.  "  When  Christian  martyrs,  and  Scottish  Covenanters  in 
dens  and  caves  of  the  earth,  when  French  exiles  and  Ensflish 
fugitives  in  their  hiding-places  during  the  panic  of  revolution 
or  of  mutiny,  received  a  special  comfort  from  the  Psalms,  it  was 
because  they  found  themselves  literally  side  by  side  with  the 
author  in  the  cavern  of  Adullam,  or  on  the  cliffs  of  Engedi,  or 
beyond  the  Jordan,  escaping  from  Saul  or  from  Absalom,  from 
the  Philistines  or  from  the  Assyrians.  When  Burleigh  or  Locke 
seemed  to  find  an  echo  in  the  Psalms  to  their  own  calm  phi- 
losophy, it  was  because  they  were  listening  to  the  strains  which 
had  proceeded  from  the  mouth  or  charmed  the  ear  of  the  saga- 
cious king  or  the  thoughtful  statesman  of  Judah.  It  has  often 
been  observed  that  the  older  we  grow,  the  more  interest  the 
Psalms  possess  for  us  as  individuals;  and  it  may  at  most  be  said 
that  by  these  multiplied  associations,  the  older  the  human  race 
grows,  the  more  interest  do  they  possess  for  mankind."  ^ 

POETIC  MERIT. 

In  its  religious  character,  as  just  described,  lies  the  crowning 
excellence  of  the  poetry  of  the  Bible.  The  spiritual  ideas  are 
the  main  thing,  and  they  rise  in  richness,  purity,  sublimity  and 
universal  importance  immeasurably  beyond  the  literature  of  all 
other  nations  of  antiquity. 

But  as  to  the  artistic  and  aesthetic  form,  it  is  altogether  subor- 
dinate to  the  contents,  and  held  in  subserviency  to  the  lofty  aim. 
Moses,  David,  Solomon,  Isaiah,  and  the  author  of  the  Book  of 

^  Stanley  :  Wmt.  of  the  Jewish  Chureh,  II.  167. 


THE   POETRY   OF   THE   BIBLE.  75 

Job,  possessed  evidently  the  highest  gifts  of  poetry,  but  they 
restrained  them,  lest  human  genius  should  outshine  the  Divine 
grace,  or  the  silver  picture  be  estimated  above  the  golden  apple. 
The  poetry  of  the  Bible,  like  the  whole  Bible,  wears  the  garb  of 
humility  and  condescends  to  men  of  low  degree,  in  order  to  raise 
them  up.  It  gives  no  encouragement  to  the  idolatry  of  genius, 
and  glorifies  God  alone.  '^  Not  unto  us,  O  Lord,  not  unto  us, 
but  unto  Thy  name  give  glory"  (Ps.  cxv.  1). 

Hence  an  irreligious  or  immoral  man  is  apt  to  be  repelled  by 
the  Bible;  he  feels  himself  in  an  uncongenial  atmosphere,  and  is 
made  uneasy  and  uncomfortable  by  the  rebukes  of  sin  and  the 
praise  of  a  holy  God.  He  will  not  have  this  book  rule  over  him 
or  disturb  him  in  his  worldly  modes  of  thought  and  habits  of 
life. 

Others  are  unable  to  divest  themselves  of  early  prejudices  for 
classical  models ;  they  esteem  external  polish  more  highly  than 
ideas,  and  can  enjoy  no  poetry  which  is  not  cast  in  the  ancient 
Greek  or  modern  mould,  and  moves  on  in  the  regular  flow  of 
uniform  metre,  stanza,  and  rhyme.  And  yet  these  are  not  essen- 
tial to  true  poetry.  The  rhyme  was  unknown  to  Homer, 
Pindar,  Sophocles,  Virgil  and  Horace ;  it  was  even  despised  by 
Milton  as  "  the  invention  of  a  barbarous  age  to  set  oflp  wretched 
matter  and  lame  metre,  as  the  jingling  sound  of  like  endings 
trivial  to  all  judicious  ears  and  of  no  true  musical  delight."  This 
is  indeed  going  to  the  opposite  extreme ;  for  although  rhyme  and 
even  metre  are  by  no  means  necessary  in  the  epos  and  drama,  they 
yet  belong  to  the  perfection  of  some  forms  of  lyric  poetry,  which 
is  the  twin  sister  of  music. 

If  we  study  the  Bible  poetry  on  its  own  ground,  and  with 
unclouded  eyes,  we  may  find  in  it  forms  of  beauty  as  high  and 
enduring  as  in  that  of  any  nation  ancient  or  modern.  Even  its 
artless  simplicity  and  naturalness  are  the  highest  triumph  of  art. 
Simplicity  always  enters  into  good  taste.  Those  poems  and  songs 
which  are  the  outgushings  of  the  heart,  without  any  show  of 
artificial  labor,  are  the  most  popular,  and  never  lose  their  hold 
on  the  heart.  Vie  feel  that  we  could  make  them  ourselves,  and 
yet  only  a  high  order  of  genius  could  produce  them. 

Where  is  there  a  nobler  ode  of  liberty,  of  national  deliverance 


76  THE   POETRY   OF   THE   BIBLE. 

and  independence,  than  the  Song  of  Moses  on  the  overthrow  of 
Pharaoh  in  the  Red  Sea  (Ex.  xv.)  ?  Where  a  grander  panorama 
of  creation  than  in  the  one  hundred  and  fourth  Psahn?  Where 
a  more  charming  and  loving  pastoral  than  the  twenty-third 
Psalm  ?  Where  such  a  high  view  of  the  dignity  and  destiny  of 
man  as  in  the  eighth  Psalm  ?  Where  a  profounder  sense  of  sin 
and  Divine  forgiveness  than  in  the  thirty-second  and  fifty-first 
Psalms?  Where  such  a  truthful  and  overpowering  description 
of  the  vanity  of  human  life  and  the  never-changing  character  of 
the  holy  and  just,  yet  merciful  God,  as  in  the  ninetieth  Psalm? 
Where  have  the  infinite  greatness  and  goodness  of  God,  his  holi- 
ness, righteousness,  long-suffering  and  mercy,  the  wonders  of  His 
government,  and  the  feeling  of  dependence  on  Him,  of  joy  and 
peace  in  Him,  of  gratitude  for  His  blessings,  of  praise  of  His 
glory,  found  truer  and  fitter  embodiment  than  in  the  Psalter  and 
the  Prophets  ?  Where  will  you  find  more  sweet,  tender,  and  deli- 
cate expression  of  innocent  love  than  in  the  Song  of  Songs,  which 
sounds  like  the  singing  of  birds  in  sunny  May  from  the  flowery 
fields  and  the  tree  of  life  in  Paradise  ?  The  Prayer  of  Moses 
(Psalm  xc.)  has  been  styled  "the  most  sublime  of  human  compo- 
sitions, the  deepest  in  feeling,  loftiest  in  theologic  conception,  the 
most  magnificent  in  its  imagery.'^  Isaiah  is,,  in  the  judgment  of 
the  ablest  critics,  one  of  the  greatest  of  poets  as  well  as  of  prophets, 
of  an  elevation,  a  richness,  a  compass,  a  power  and  comfort  that 
are  unequalled.  No  human  genius  ever  soared  so  high  as  this 
evangelist  of  the  old  dispensation.  Jeremiah,  the  prophet  of 
sorrow  and  affliction,  has  furnished  the  richest  supply  of  the 
language  of  holy  grief  in  seasons  of  public  calamity  and  distress, 
from  the  destruction  of  Jerusalem  down  to  the  latest  siege  of 
Paris;  and  few  works  have  done  this  work  more  effectively  than 
his  Lamentations.  And  what  shall  we  say  of  the  Book  of  Job, 
the  Shakespeare  in  the  Bible?  Where  are  such  bold  and  vivid 
descriptions  of  the  wonders  of  nature,  of  the  behemoth,  the  levi- 
athan, and  of  the  war-horse?  What  can  be  finer  than  Job's 
picture  of  wisdom,  whose  price  is  far  above  rubies?  And  what 
a  wealth  of  comfort  is  in  that  wonderful  passage,  which  inspired 
the  sublimest  solo  in  the  sublimest  musical  composition,  those 
words  graven  in  the  rock  forever,  where  this  patriarchal  sage 


THE   POETRY   OF   THE   BIBLE.  77 

and  saint  of  the  order  of  Melchisedec  expresses  his  faith  and 
hope  that  his  ^^  lledeemer  liv^eth,"  and  that  the  righteous  shall  see 
Him  face  to  face. 


TRIBUTES  OF  POETS  AND  SCHOLARS  TO  HEBREW  POETRY. 

The  times  for  the  depreciation  of  Bible  poetry  have  passed. 
Many  of  the  greatest  scholars  and  poets,  some  of  whom  by  no 
means  in  sympathy  with  its  religious  ideas,  have  done  it  full 
justice.  I  quote  a  few  of  them  who  represent  different  stand- 
points and  nationalities. 

Henry  Stephens,  the  greatest  philologist  of  the  sixteenth  cen- 
tury, thought  that  there  was  nothing  more  poetic  {jzinrjrf/.w-spov)^ 
nothing  more  musical  (/j.()ucrf/.a)Tep(>w),  nothing  more  thrilling 
{jopywrspov^j  nothing  more  full  of  lofty  inspiration  [Sci9uparij3r/.6' 
repov)  than  the  Psalms  of  David. 

John  Milton,  notwithstanding  his  severe  classic  taste,  judges: 
^^  There  are  no  songs  comparable  to  the  songs  of  Zion,  no 
orations  equal  to  those  of  the  Prophets,  and  no  politics  like 
those  which  the  Scriptures  teach.''  And  as  to  the  Psalms,  he 
says :  "  Not  in  their  divine  arguments  alone,  but  in  the  very 
critical  art  of  composition,  the  Psalms  may  be  easily  made  to 
appear  over  all  the  kinds  of  lyric  poesy  incomparable.'' 

Sir  William  Jones  :  "  I  have  regularly  and  attentively  read 
the  Holy  Scriptures,  and  am  of  the  opinion  that  this  volume, 
independently  of  its  divine  origin,  contains  more  true  sublimity, 
more  exquisite  beauty,  more  important  history  and  finer  strains 
both  of  poetry  and  eloquence,  than  could  be  collected  from  all 
other  books." 

Sir  D.  K.  Sand  ford  :  "In  lyric  flow  and  fire,  in  crushing 
force  and  majesty,  the  poetry  of  the  ancient  Scriptures  is  the 
most  superb  that  ever  burnt  within  the  breast  of  man." 

John  von  Miiller,  the  German  Tacitus:  '^ There  is  nothing  in 
Greece,  nothing  in  Rome,  nothing  in  all  the  ^yest,  like  David, 
who  selected  the  God  of  Israel  to  sing  Him  in  higher  strains 
than  ever  praised  the  gods  of  the  Gentiles." 

Herder,  who  was  at  home  in  the  literature  of  all  ages  and 
countries,  is  full  of  enthusiastic  admiration  for  the  pure  and 
sublime  beauties  of  Hebrew  poetry,  as  may  be  seen  on  almost 


78  THE   POETRY   OF   THE   BIBLE. 

every  page  of  his  celebrated  work  on  the  subject.  He  regards 
it  as  ^'  the  oldest,  simplest,  siiblimest  ^'  of  all  poetry,  and  in  the 
form  of  a  dialogue  between  Alciphron  and  Eutyphron,  after  the 
Platonic  fashion,  he  triumphantly  vindicates  its  merits  against 
all  objections,  and  illustrates  it  with  admirable  translations  of 
choice  passages. 

Goethe  pronounced  the  book  of  Ruth  '^  the  loveliest  thing  in 
the  shape  of  an  epic  or  idyl  which  has  come  down  to  us.^^ 

Alexander  von  Humboldt,  in  his  "  Cosmos "  (where  the 
name  of  God  scarcely  occurs,  except  in  an  extract  from  the 
heathen  Aristotle),  praises  the  Hebrew  description  of  nature  as 
unrivalled,  especially  the  104th  Psalm,  as  ^^  presenting  in  itself 
a  picture  of  the  whole  world."  ^'  Nature,"  he  says,  ^'  is  to  the 
Hebrew  poet  not  a  self-dependent  object,  but  a  work  of  creation 
and  order,  the  living  expression  of  the  omnipresence  of  the 
Divinity  in  the  visible  world." 

Thomas  Carlyle  calls  the  Book  of  Job,  "apart  from  all 
theories  about  it,  one  of  the  grandest  things  ever  written  by 
man.  A  noble  book  !  All  men's  book  !  Such  living  likenesses 
were  never  since  drawn.  Sublime  sorrow,  sublime  reconcilia- 
tion ;  oldest  choral  melody,  as  of  the  heart  of  manhood ;  so  soft 
and  great  as  the  summer  midnight;  as  the  world  with  its  seas 
and  stars.  There  is  nothing  written,  I  think^  of  equal  literary 
merit." 

Isaac  Taylor :  "  The  Hebrew  writers  as  poets  were  masters  of 
all  the  means  and  the  resources,  the  powers  and  the  stores,  of  the 
loftiest  poetry,  but  subservient  to  a  far  loftier  purpose  than  that 
which  ever  animates  human  genius." 

Heinrich  Ewald  calls  the  old  Hebrew  poetry  "  unique  in  its 
kind  and  in  many  respects  unsurpassed,  because  as  to  its  contents 
it  is  the  interpreter  of  those  sublime  religious  thoughts  which 
lived  in  Israel,  and  are  found  nowhere  else  in  antiquity  in  such 
purity,  vigor  and  durability,  and  as  to  its  form  it  has  a  won- 
derful simplicity  and  naivete  flowing  from  that  sublimity  of 
thought." 

Dean  Stanley :  "  The  Psalms  are  beyond  question  poetical 
from  first  to  last,  and  he  will  be  a  bold  man  who  shall  say  that 
a  book  is  less  inspired,  or  less  true,  or  less  orthodox,  or  less 


THE   rOETRY   OF  THE   BIBLE.  79 

Divine,  because  it  is  like  the  Psalms.  The  Prophet,  in  order  to 
take  root  in  the  common  life  of  the  people,  must  become  a 
Psalmist." 

J.  J.  Stewart  Perowne :  ^'  The  very  excellence  of  the  Psalms 
is  their  universality.  They  spring  from  the  deep  fountains  of 
the  human  heart,  and  God,  in  Plis  providence,  and  by  His  Spirit, 
has  so  ordered  it,  that  they  should  be  for  His  Church  an  ever- 
lasting heritage.  Hence  they  express  the  sorrows,  the  joys,  the 
aspirations,  the  struggles,  the  victories,  not  of  one  man,  but  of  all. 
And  if  we  ask.  How  comes  this  to  pass  ?  the  answer  is  not  far 
to  seek.  One  object  is  ever  before  the  eyes  and  the  heart  of  the 
Psalmist.  All  enemies,  all  distresses,  all  persecutions,  all  sins, 
are  seen  in  the  light  of  God.  It  is  to  Him  that  the  cry  goes  up ; 
it  is  to  Him  that  the  heart  is  laid  bare;  it  is  to  Him  that  the 
thanksgiving  is  uttered.  This  it  is  which  makes  them  so  true, 
so  precious,  so  universal.  Xo  surer  proof  of  their  inspiration 
can  be  given  than  this,  that  they  are  '  not  of  an  age,  but  for  all 
time/  that  the  ripest  Christian  can  use  them  in  the  fulness  of  his 
Christian  manhood,  though  the  words  are  the  words  of  one  who 
lived  centuries  before  the  coming  of  Christ  in  the  flesh." 

CLASSIFICATION  OF  BIBLE  POETRY. 

Strictly  speaking,  there  are  only  three  classes  of  pure  poetry 
in  which  imagination  and  feeling  are  controlling  factors.  These 
are  lyric,  epic,  and  dramatic. 

Lyric  poetry  is  the  poetry  of  subjective  emotions ;  epic 
poetry,  the  poetry  of  objective  narration  ;  dramatic  poetry,  the 
poetry  of  living  action.^ 

But  there  is  a  mixed  kind,  called  didactic  poetry.  It  is  the 
product  of  reflection  as  well  as  of  imagination.  It  runs  into 
philosophy  and  ethics.  The  first  three  kinds  have  their  aim  in 
themselves.  Didactic  poetry  has  its  aim  beyond  itself,  in 
instruction  or  improvement,  and  uses  the  poetic  form  as  a  means 
to  an  end. 

Bible  poetry  is    chiefly  lyric  and   didactic.     Many    writers 

'Goethe  says:  "  jS's  gibt  nur  drci  eclite  Naturformen  der  Poesie  :  die  klar 
erzdhlende,  die  enthusiast isch  aufgeregte  und  die  personlich  handelnde :  Epos, 
Lyrik  und  Drama.'' ^ 


80  THE   POETRY   OF  THE   BIBLE. 

admit  only  these  two  kinds.-^  But  we  must  add  to  them  as  sub- 
ordinate forms,  PROPHETIC  and  dramatic  poetry. 

Prophetic  poetry  may  be  regarded  as  a  branch  of  didactic,  or, 
perhaps  better,  as  a  substitute  for  epic  poetry.  The  revealed 
religion  excludes  mythology  and  hero-worship,  which  control 
the  epic  poetry  of  the  heathen.  It  substitutes  for  them  mono- 
theism, which  is  inconsistent  with  any  kind  of  idolatry.  The 
real  hero,  so  to  speak,  of  the  history  of  revelation  is  Jehovah 
Himself,  the  only  true  and  living  God,  to  whom  all  glory  is  due. 
And  so  He  appears  in  the  prophetic  writings.  He  is  the  one 
object  of  worship,  praise  and  thanksgiving,  but  not  the  object  of 
a  narrative  poem.  He  is  the  one  sovereign  actor,  who  in  heaven 
originates  and  controls  all  events  on  earth,  but  not  one  among 
other  actors,  cooperating  or  conflicting  with  finite  beings. 

There  are  epic  elements  in  several  lyric  poems  which  cele- 
brate certain  great  events  in  Jewish  history,  as  the  Song  of  Moses, 
Exod.  XV.,  and  the  Song  of  Deborah,  Judg.  v. ;  yet  even  here 
the  lyric  element  preponderates,  and  the  subjectivity  of  the  poet 
is  not  lost  in  the  objective  event  as  in  the  genuine  epos.  The 
Book  of  E.uth  has  been  called  an  epos.  The  Prologue  and  E})i- 
logue  of  Job  are  epic,  and  have  a  truly  narrative  and  objective 
character;  but  they  are  only  the  framework  of  the  poem  itself, 
which  is  essentially  didactic  in  dramatic  form.  In  the  apocry- 
phal books  the  epic  element  appears  in  the  book  of  Tobit  and 
the  book  of  Judith,  which  stand  between  narrative  and  fiction, 
and  correspond  to  what  we  call  romance  or  novel. 

Dramatic  poetry  occurs  in  close  connection  with  lyric  and 
didactic  poetry,  but  is  subordinate  to  them,  and  is  not  so  fully 
develoi^ed  as  in  Greek  literature. 

I.  LYRIC  POETRY. 
Lyric  poetry,  or  the  poetry  of  feeling,  is  the  oldest  and  pre- 
dominant form  of  poetry  among  the  Hebrew  as  all  other  Semitic 

'So  Perowne  {The  Booh  of  Psalms,  Vol.  L,  p.  1,  third  ed.)  :  "The  poetry 
of  the  Hebrews  is  mainly  of  two  kinds,  lyrical  and  didactic.  They  have  no 
epic  and  no  drama.  Dramatic  elements  are  to  be  found  in  many  of  their 
odes,  and  tlie  Book  of  Job  and  the  Song  of  Songs  have  sometimes  been 
called  Divine  dramas  ;  but  dramatic  poetry,  in  the  proper  sense  of  that 
term,  was  altogetlier  unknown  to  the  Israelites." 


THE   POETRY   OF   THE   BIBLE.  81 

nations.  It  is  the  easiest,  the  most  natural,  and  best  adapted  for 
devotion  both  private  and  public.  It  wells  up  from  the  human 
heart,  and  gives  utterance  to  its  many  strong  and  tender  emotions 
of  love  and  friendship,  of  joy  and  gladness,  of  grief  and  sorrow, 
of  hope  and  desire,  of  gratitude  and  praise.  Ewald  happily  de- 
scribes it  as  '^the  daughter  of  the  moment,  of  swift,  rising,  pow^- 
erful  feelings,  of  deep  stirrings  and  fiery  emotions  of  the  soul.'^^ 

Lyric  poetry,  as  the  name  indicates,^  is  closely  connected  w^ith 
music,  its  twin  sister.  The  song  of  Lamech  and  the  song  of 
Moses  were  accompanied  by  musical  instruments.  David  was  a 
poet  and  a  musician  and  sang  his  hymns  to  the  sound  of  the 
harp  or  guitar.  The  minstrel  and  gleeman  of  the  middle  ages 
represent  the  same  union. 

Among  the  Greeks  the  epos  appears  first;  but  older  lyric 
effusions  may  have  been  lost.  Among  the  Hindoos  they  are 
preserved  in  the  Vedas.  Lyric  poetry  is  found  among  all 
nations  which  have  a  poetic  literature ;  but  epic  poetry,  at  least 
in  its  fuller  development,  is  not  so  general,  and  hence  cannot  be 
the  primitive  form. 

Lyric  poetry  contains  the  fruitful  germs  of  all  other  kinds  of 
poetry.  When  the  poetic  feeling  is  kindled  by  a  great  event  in 
history,  it  expresses  itself  more  or  less  epically,  as  in  the  battle 
and  victory  hymns  of  Moses  and  Deborah.  When  the  poet 
desires  to  teach  a  great  truth  or  practical  lesson,  he  becomes 
didactic.  When  he  exhibits  his  emotions  in  the  form  of  action 
and   real  life,  he  approaches  the  drama.     In  like  manner  the 

^  Ewald,  Dicliter  des  A.  5.  I.,  p.  17  :  "  Die  hjrisclie  Dichtung  oder  das  Lied 
isi  ilherall  die  nachste  Art  von  Dichtung,  welche  bei  irgend  einem  Voike  entsteht. 
Sie  ist  cs  ihrem  Wcsen  nach:  denn  sie  ist  die  Tochter  des  Augenblicks,  schnell 
emporkommcnder  gcivaltiger  Empfindungen,  tiefer  B'dhrungen  und  feuriger  Bewe- 
gungen  des  Gem'dthcs,  von  ivelchen  der  Dicliter  so  ganz  hingcrissen  ist,  dass  er  in 
sich  wie  vcrlorcn,  nichts  als  sie,  so  gcwaltig  icie  sie  in  ihm  leben,  aussprcchen  toill. 
Sie  ist  es  ebcnso  der  Zeit  nach:  das  kurzc  Lied  ist  der  bestdndigste,  unvericilstlichste 
Theil  ran  Pocsie,  der  erste  und  letzie  Erguss  dichierischer  Stimmung,  wie  eine 
unversiegbare  Quelle,  welche  zu  jeder  Zeit  sich  icieder  friscJi  crgiessen  kann.  Sie 
ist  also  auch  bei  alien  Volkern  nothwendig  die  ciltc^te,  die,  icelche  zucrst  eine 
dichterische  Gestaltiing  und  Kunst  gr'dndet  und  alien  ilbrigen  Arten  von  Dichtung 
die  Wege  bahnt.''^  On  p.  91  Ewald  ^^ays  :  "  Und  so  bleibt  das  Lied  in  scinem 
ganzen  rcinen  und  vollcn  Wesen  wie  der  Anfang  so  das  Ende  alter  Dichtung.''^ 

2  From  /.I'pa,  a  striuged  iustrumeiit. 
6 


82  THE   POETRY   OF   THE   BIBLE. 

lyric  poetry  may  give  rise  to  mixed  forms  which  appear  in  the 
later  stages  of  literature.-^ 

THE  SONG  OF  LAMECH. 

The  oldest  known  specimen  of  lyric  poetry  and  of  all  poetry 
(excepting  the  Divine  poem  of  creation)  is  the  song  of  Lamech 
to  his  two  wives  (Gen.  iv.  23).  It  has  already  the  measured 
arrangement,  alliteration  and  musical  correspondence  of  Hebrew 
parallelism.  It  is  a  proud,  fierce,  defiant  ^^  sword-song,^^  com- 
memorating in  broken,  fragmentary  utterances  the  invention  of 
weapons  of  brass  and  iron  by  Lamech's  son,  Tubal-Cain  (/.  c, 
lance-maker),  and  threatening  vengeance : — 

"Adah  and  Zillali !  hear  my  voice  ; 

Ye  wives  of  Lamecli,  listen  to  my  speech  : 
For  I  have  slain  -  a  man  for  wounding  me, 

Even  a  young  man  for  bruising  me. 
Lo  !  Cain  shall  be  avenged  seven-fold, 

But  Lamech  seventy  and  seven-fold. ' '  ^ 

^  Ewald,  I.  c,  p.  1  sq.  :  ^ ^  Der  hesondere  Zweck,  ivclchen  der  Didder  verfolgen 
mag,  kann  im  Allgemeinen  niir  em  dreifaclier  sein:  er  ivlll  cntweder  mit  seinen 
gefl'dgelten  Worten  loie  mit  einer  Lelire  andre  treffen,  odcr  er  will  erzdhlend 
hesehreiben,  oder  endlich  er  will  das  voile  Leben  selbst  ehenso  hhcndig  wiedergehen  : 
und  so  warden  Lehrdichtuxg,  Sagendichtuxg  {Epos,  und  Lebexsdich- 
TUNG  {Drama)  die  drei  Arten  hoherer  Dichtung  sein,  welehe  sich  uberall  wie  von 
selbst  ausbilden  wollen.  Erst  wenn  sie  sich  vollkommen  ausgebildet  haben,  entstelien 
aueh  wohl  neue  Zwitterarten,  indem  das  Lied  als  die  Urart  alter  Dichtung 
seine  eigenthJXmliche  Weise  mit  einer  derselben  neu  verschmilzt  und  diese  stets 
ndchste  und  allgegenwdrtigste  Urdichtung  sich  so  in  neaer  Schopfung  mannichfach 
verjiingt.''^ 

^  The  perfect,  /  have  slain  (^nJl^H'  Sept.  a~t:tiTF.iva^  Vulg.  oecidi),  is  prob- 
al)ly  used  in  the  spirit  of  arrogant  boasting,  to  express  the  future  with  all  tlie 
certainty  of  an  accomplished  fact.  Chrysostom,  Theodoret,  Jerome,  Jarchi 
and  others  set  Lamech  down  as  a  murderer  (of  Cain),  who  here  confesses  his 
deed  to  ease  liis conscience  ;  but  Aben-Ezra,  Cilviu,  Herder,  Ewald,  Delitzsch, 
take  the  verb  as  a  threat :  "I  will  slay  any  man  who  wounds  me."  Dillman 
combines  the  past  and  tlie  future:  '"''  Das  Perfectam  kann  nicht  den  I'orsatz 
ausdriieken,  aueh  nicht  die  blosse  Gewissheit,  .soxdern  niir  die  voUzogene  That,  die 
er  aber  in  dhnlichevi  Falle  zu  wiederholen  nicht  zugern  wird.'"  The  Iv.  V.  puts 
the  future  into  tlie  margin  :  /  ivill  slay. 

^  The  law  of  blood  for  blood  is  strongly  exx)re.ssed  also  in  the  tragic  poetry 


THE   POETRY   OF   THE   BIBLE.  83 

Here  we  have  the  origin  of  secular  poetry,  and  also  of  music 
(for  the  other  son  of  Laniccli,  Juhal,  /.  e.,  Harper,  invented 
musical  instruments),  in  connection  with  the  progressive  material 
civilization  of  the  descendants  of  Cain. 

The  other  poetic  remains  of  the  ante-Mosaic  age  are  the  Pre- 
diction of  Noah  concerning  his  three  sons  (Gen.  ix.  25-27),  and 
the  death-chant  of  Jacob  (Gen.  xlix.  1-27) ;  but  these  belong 
rather  to  prophetic  poetry. 

THE  SOXG  OF  MOSES. 
In  the  Mosaic  ag^e  we  meet  first  with  the  sonor  of  deliverance 
which  Moses  sang  with  the  children  of  Israel  unto  the  Lord 
after  the  overthrow  of  Pliaraoh's  host  in  the  Red  Sea  (Ex.  xv. 
1-18).  It  is  the  oldest  specimen  of  a  patriotic  ode,^  and  may  be 
called  the  national  anthem,  or  the  Te  Deum  of  the  Hebrews. 
It  sounds  through  all  the  thanksgiving  hymns  of  Israel,  and 
is  associated  by  the  Apocalyptic  Seer  with  the  final  triumph  of 
the  Church,  when  the  saints  shall  sing  "  the  song  of  Moses,  and 
the  song  of  the  Lamb "  (Rev.  xv.  3).  Its  style  is  archaic, 
simple,  and  grand.  It  is  arranged  for  antiphonal  singing, 
chorus  answering  to  chorus,  and  voice  to  voice;  the  maidens 
playing  upon  the  timbrels.  It  is  full  of  alliterations  and 
rhymes  which  cannot  be  rendered,  and  hence  it  necessarily  loses 
in  any  translation.^ 

of  Greece,  especially  in  the  Eumenides  of  iEschylus,  also  the  Choejjhorse,  398 
(quoted  by  Prof.  T.  Lewis,  in  Lange's  Com.  on  Gen.  iii  loc.)  : — 

"  There  is  a  law  that  blood  once  poured  on  eaith 
By  murderous  hands  demands  that  other  blood 
Be  shed  in  retribution.     From  the  slain 
Erynnys  calls  aloud  for  vengeance  still, 
Till  death  in  justice  must  be  paid  for  death." 

^  From  d(kteiv^  to  sing. 

^  Dr.  Ley  (p.  210  sqq.)  arranges  the  Hebrew  text  octametrically  and  says: 
^^Diescr  alte  Festgesang  id  durehaus  octaincfrisch,  hat  lautcr  rcgdmdssige  Stropheii 
mit  Ausnahme  dcr  ersten.''^  Herder  says  of  this  poem,  of  which  he  gives  a 
free  German  translation:  ^^ Der  Durchgang  durchs  Meer  hat  das  dltestc  uiid 
klingcndstc  Sicgc-Hlied  hervorgcbracht,  das  wir  in  dieser  Sprache  hahen.  Es  ist 
Chorgesang :  cine  einzelne  Stimme  malte  viclleicht  die  Thaten  setbst,  die  der  Chor 
auffing  und  glcichsam  verhallte.  Sein  Bau  ist  einfach,  voll  Assonanzen  und  Beime, 
die  ich  in  unsrcr  Sprache  ohne  Wortzwang  nicht  zu  geben  w'dsste  ;  denn  die  ebras- 


84  THE   POETRY   OF   THE   BIBLE. 

"  I  will  sing  unto  Jehovah, 

For  He  hath  triumphed  gloriously  : 
The  horse  and  his  rider 

Hath  He  thrown  into  the  sea. 
Jehovah  is  my  strength  and  song, 

And  He  is  become  my  salvation. 
This  is  my  God,  and  I  will  praise  Him  ;^ 

My  Other's  God,  and  I  will  exalt  Him. 

Jehovah  is  a  man  of  war  ; 

Jehovah  is  His  name. 
Pharaoh's  chariots  and  his  host 

Hath  He  cast  into  the  sea  : 
And  his  chosen  captains 

Are  sunk  in  the  Red  Sea. 
The  depths  cover  them  ; 

They  went  down  to  the  bottom  like  a  stone. 

Thy  right  hand,  0  Jehovah,  is  glorious  in  power, 

Thy  right  hand,  0  Jehovah,  dasheth  in  pieces  the  enemy. 
And  in  the  greatness  of  Thy  majesty 

Thou  overturnest  them  that  rise  up  against  Thee. 
Thou  sendest  forth  Thy  wrath. 

It  consumeth  them  like  stubble. 
And  with  the  blast  of  Thy  nostrils  the  waters  were  piled  up. 

The  floods  stood  upright  as  an  heap. 

The  depths  were  congealed  in  the  heart  of  the  sea. 

ische  Sprache  ist  ivegen  ihres  einfonnigen  Banes  soldier  klingenden  Assonanzen 
roll.  LeicJite,  layige,  aher  icenige  Worte  versclncehen  in  der  Luft,  iind  meistens 
endigt  eindunklcr,  einsylhiger  Schall,  der  vielleicM  den  Bardlet  des  Chors  machte.''^ 
Lange  thus  happily  characterizes  this  ode  {Comm.  on  Ex.)  :  "  Wie  der  Durch- 
gang  durch  das  Bothe  3Ieer  als  einefundamentale  Thatsache  des  typischen  Beiehcs 
Goites  seine  Bezlehung  durch  die  game  HeiJige  ScJtrift  aushreitct,  wie  er  sick 
ruckicdrfs  auf  die  S'dndfluth  bezieJit,  iceiier  vorwdrfs  auf  die  christliche  Taufc^ 
und  schliessUch  auf  das  EndgericJit,  so  gehen  auch  die  Beflexe  von  dicsem  Liede 
3Ioses  durch  die  ganze  Heilige  Schrift.  B'dckwdrts  ist  es  vorhereiiet  durch  die 
poefischen  Laute  der  Genesis  und  durch  den  Segen  Jakohs,  vorwarts  gcht  es  durch 
kJeinc  episcJie  Laute  iiber  auf  das  Ahschiedslicd  des  Moses  und  seinen  Segen,  5  JIos. 
32,  33.  Zicei  grossartige  Seitensi'dcke,  wcJche  foJgen,  das  Siegeslied  der  Dehor  a 
und  das  BettungsJied  des  David,  2  Sam.  22  {Bs.  18),  leiten  dann  die  Bsalmen- 
poesie  ein,  in  ivelcher  vieJfach  der  Grundton  unsres  Liedes  wieder  mit  anklingt, 
Bs.  77,  78,  105,  106,  114.  Koch  einnml  ist  am  Schiusse  des  X.  T.  von  dvuh 
Liede  Mosis  die  Bede  ;  es  tunt  fort  als  das  tgpische  Triumphlied  des  J'olkes  Gotfes 
bis  in  die  andre  Welt  hinein,  Off'enb.  xv.  3." 

^  The  Autli.  V.  :  "  I  will  prepare  him  an  liabitatiou  "  (sanctuary),  would 


THE    POETRY   OF   THE    BIBLE.  85 

The  enemy  sai'l.  I  will  pursue.  I  will  uvenake, 

I  will  divi'ie  the  si-oil, 
My  lii<t  shall  be  satisfied  ui";-!!  them  : 

I  will  draw  my  sw.;.r';l. 

My  hand  shall  destroy  tht-m. 

Th«ui  di':lst  blL>w  with  Thy  win'i. 
The  sea  covereil  them  : 
They  sank  as  lead  in  the  mighty  waters. 

Wh'j  is  like  iint':>  Thee.  0  Jeh'i'vah.  am^mg  the  gods? 

Wlio  is  like  Thee.  gL.>ri':«iLS  in  h^jlint-ss. 

Fcarliil  in  praises,  d'jing  w^jn^lc rs  ? 
Thi;>ii  didst  stretch  out  Thy  right  han-i, 

The  earth  swallowed  them. 

Thou  in  Thy  mercy  hast  le<;l  the  people 

Which  ThL'U  hast  re^ieeme'i. 
Th'ju  hast  gui-le<;l  them  in  Thy  strength 

T.J  Thy  h-ly  habitation. 

The  peo'ple  have  heard,  they  tremble  :  ^ 

Pangs  have  taken  hold  on  the  inhabitants  of  Philistia. 

Then  were  the  chiefs  of  E';l;>m  ':lismayed  ; 

Tne  mighty  men  of  M':>ab,  trembling  taketh  hold  iijx>n  them. 

All  the  inhabitants  of  Canaan  are  melte-i  away  : 
Tt-rrur  an..!  dread  tail  uT>on  them. 

By  the  greatness  of  Thine  arm  they  are  as  still  as  a  stone  ; 

Till  Thy  peijple  pass  uver.  0  Jehovah, 
Till  the  pe'.'ple  pass  over. 

Which  Thuu  hast  i:aLrchased. 

Thiju  shalt  bring  them  in. 

Au'i  plant  them  in  the  mLaintain  '.-f  Thine  inheritance. 
The  pkce,  0  Jehovah,  which  Th-ai  hast  made  fjr  Thee  to  dwell  in. 

The  sanctuary.  0  Jehovah.  whi<;h  Thy  hau'ls  have  establishes! 
Jehuvah  shall  reign  fbr  ever  and  evcr. 

anticipate  the  building  of  the  tabernacle,  but  is  not  justiiieil  by  the  Hebre-rr. 
The  Revision  renders  as  alx)ve. 

^  The  p«x-t,  alter  giving  thanks  ibr  the  past.  lo<3ks  to  the  future  and 
describes  the  certain  c»3nseqnenees  of  this  mighty  deliverance,  which  struck 
terror  into  the  hearts  of  all  enemies  of  Israel,  and  must  end  in  the  conqueiat 
of  Canaan,  as  promise*;!  by  Jehovah. 


86  THE   POETRY   OF   THE   BIBLE. 

Here  the  song  ends,  and  what  follows  (ver.  19)  is  probably  a 
brief  recapitulation  to  fix  the  event  in  the  memory : — 

' '  For  the  horses  of  Pharaoh  went  in  with  his  chariots 
And  with  his  horsemen  into  the  sea, 
And  Jehovah  brought  again  the  waters  of  the  sea  upon  them  ; 
But  the  children  of  Israel  walked  on  dry  land 
In  the  midst  of  the  sea. ' ' 

Moses  wrote  also  that  sublime  farewell  song  which  celebrates 
Jehovah's  merciful  dealings  with  Israel  (Dent,  xxxii.),  the  part- 
ing blessing  of  the  twelve  tribes  (Deut.  xxxiii.),  and  the  nine- 
tieth Psalm,  called  "  A  Prayer  of  Moses,  the  man  of  God/' 
which  sums  up  the  spiritual  experience  of  his  long  pilgrim- 
age in  the  wilderness,  and  which  proves  its  undying  force  at 
every  sick  bed  and  funeral  service.  What  can  be  more  sub- 
lime than  the  contrast  this  Psalm  draws  between  the  eternal, 
unchangeable  Jehovah  and  the  fleeting  life  of  mortal  man. 

' '  Lord,  Thou  hast  been  our  dwelling  place 

In  all  generations. 
Before  the  mountains  were  brought  forth, 

Or  ever  Thou  hadst  formed  the  earth  and  the  world, 
Even  from  everlasting  to  everlasting 

Thou  art  God. 

Thou  turnest  man  to  destruction  ; 

And  sayest,  Return,  ye  children  of  men. 
For  a  thousand  years  in  Thy  sight 

Are  but  as  yesterday  when  it  is  past, 
And  as  a  watch  in  the  night. 


The  days  of  our  years  are  threescore  years  and  ten, 
Or  even  by  reason  of  strength  fourscore  years  ; 

Yet  is  their  pride  but  labor  and  sorrow  ; 
For  it  is  soon  gone,  and  we  fly  away. 

So  teach  us  to  number  our  days, 

That  we  may  turn  our  hearts  unto  wisdom. 

LYRICS  IX  THE  LATER  HISTORICAL  BOOKS. 
The  Book  of  Joshua  (x.  12,  13)  contains  a  poetic  quotation 
from  the  book  of  Jashar  (the  Upright),  which  was  probably  a 
collection  of  patriotic  songs  in  commemoration  of  providential 


THE   POETRY   OF   THE   BIBLE.  87 

deliverances  and  heroic  deeds.     In    describing  the  victory  of 
Joshua  over  the  Amorites  at  Gibeon,  the  poet  says : — 

"  Sun,  stand  still  upon  Gibeon, 

And  thou,  moon,  ui)on  the  valley  of  Ajalon  ! 
And  the  sun  stood  still,  and  the  moon  stayed  her  course, 
Until  the  nation  were  avenged  of  their  enemies. ' ' 

This  passage  has  the  rhythm,  parallelism  and  alliteration  of 
Hebrew  poetry,  and  expresses  in  a  bold,  oriental  figure  the  idea 
that  all  the  powers  of  nature  are  made  subservient  to  the  inter- 
ests of  the  theocracy.  The  Song  of  Deborah  (Judges  v.  20) 
expresses  the  same  idea  : — 

"  The  stars  in  their  courses  fought  against  Sisera, 
The  river  of  Kishon  swept  them  away. ' ' 

The  period  of  the  Judges  was,  like  the  Middle  Ages,  a  period 
of  striking  contrasts,  wild  disorder,  heroic  virtue  and  romantic 
poetry.  Then  might  was  right,  and  every  man  did  what  seemed 
good  in  his  sight.  The  people  were  constantly  exposed  to  inva- 
sion from  without  and  civil  war  from  within,  but  Providence 
raised  deliverers  who  were  both  captains  and  judges,  and  restored 
peace  and  order.  The  spirit  of  that  age  found  utterance  in  the 
Song  of  Deborah  (Judges  v.  2-31),  eight  hundred  years  before 
Pindar.  It  is  a  stirring  battle-song,  full  of  fire  and  dithyrambic 
swing,  and  all  the  more  remarkable  as  the  product  of  a  woman, 
the  Jeanne  d'Arc  of  Israel : — 

"  Hear,  0  ye  kings  ; 

Give  ear,  0  ye  princes  : 
I,  even  I,  will  sing  to  Jehovah  ; 

I  will  sing  praise  to  Jehovah,  the  God  of  Israel. 
When  Thou  didst  go  forth  out  of  Seir, 

When  Thou  didst  march  out  of  the  field  of  Edom, 
The  earth  trembled,  the  heavens  also  dropped. 

Yea,  the  clouds  dropped  water. 
The  mountains  quaked  at  the  presence  of  Jehovah, 

Even  yon  Sinai  at  the  presence  of  Jehovah,  the  God  of  Israel."^ 

^  For  an  English  translation  of  the  whole  song,  see  Dean  Stanley,  Jewish 
Church,  II.  332.  An  admirable  German  translation  by  Herder,  and  another 
by  Cassel  (^iu  Lange's  Bibdwcrk). 


88  THE   POETRY   OF   THE   BIBLE. 

Another  but  very  different  specimen  of  female  poetry  is  Han- 
nah's hymn  of  joy  and  gratitude  when  she  dedicated  her  son 
Samuel,  the  last  of  the  Judges,  to  the  service  of  Jehovah 
(1  Sam.  ii.  1-10).  It  furnished  the  key-note  to  the  llagnificat 
of  the  Virgin  Mary  after  the  miraculous  conception. 

The  Book  of  Ruth  is  an  idyllic  poem  in  prose,  and  exhibits 
in  contrast  to  the  wild  commotion  of  the  period  of  the  Judges, 
a  picture  of  domestic  peace  and  happiness  and  the  beauty  of  filial 
devotion. 

DAVID'S  LAMENT  OF  JONATHAN. 

The  reign  of  David  was  the  golden  age  of  lyric  poetry.  He 
was  himself  the  prince  of  singers  in  Israel.  *'  His  harp  was  full- 
stringed,  and  every  angel  of  joy  and  sorrow  swept  over  the  cords 
as  he  passed."  His  religious  poetry  is  collected  in  the  Psalter. 
The  beautiful  18th  Psalm  is  also  incorporated  in  2  Sam.  xxii. 
Of  his  secular  poetry  the  author  of  the  Books  of  Samuel  has 
preserved  us  two  specimens,  a  brief  stanza  on  the  death  of  Abner, 
and  his  lament  for  the  death  of  Saul  and  Jonathan  (2  Sam.  i. 
19-27).  The  latter  is  a  pathetic  and  touching  elegy  full  of  the 
strength  and  tenderness  of  the  love  of  friendship.  His  gener- 
osity in  lamenting  the  death  of  his  persecutor  who  stood  in  his 
way  to  the  throne,  enhances  the  beauty  and  effect  of  the  elegy. 

' '  Thy  G  lory,  0  Israel,  ^  is  slain  upon  thy  heights. 
(Chorus)         How  are  the  heroes  fallen ! 

1  Or,  "The  Glory  (the  Beauty)  of  Israel."  Ewald,^  Bunsen,  Keil,  take 
^N^t^^  as  vocative,  "  O  Israel  ; "  the  A.  V.  ("the  beauty  of  Israel  "),  De 
AVette,  Erdniaun  {Die  Zicrde  hraels),  and  others,  as  genitive.  ^^^^*  means 
splendor^  glory  (Isa.  iv.  2  ;  xiii.  19  ;  xxiv.  16,  and  is  often  used  of  tlie  land 
of  Israel,  and  of  Mount  Zion,  which  is  called  "the  mountain  of  holy 
beauty,"  t^"]p  ^D^  *°)tl^  Dan.  xi,  45)  ;  also  a  ^'aseZZe,  from  the  beauty  of  its 

form  (1  Kings  v.  3  ;  Isa.  xiii.  14).  The  gazelles  w^ere  so  much  admired  by 
the  Hebrews  and  Arabs  that  they  even  swore  by  tliem  (Cant.  ii.  7  ;  iii.  5). 
Herder  {IsraeVs  Eeh),  andEwald  [Dcr  Steinbock,  Israel — to  avoid  the  feminine 
die  Gazelle)  take  it  in  the  latter  sense,  and  refer  it  to  Jonathan  alone.  Ewald 
conjectures  tliat  Jonathan  was  familiarly  known  among  the  soldiers  of  Israel 
as  the  Gazelle  on  account  of  his  beauty  and  swiftness.  Jonathan  was,  of 
course,  much  neann-  to  the  heart  of  the  poet,  but  in  this  national  song  David 
had  to  identil'y  him  with  Saul,  so  that  both  are  included  in  the  Glory  of 
Israel.  The  Kc^'ised  Aversion  has  "  Thy  Glory,  O  Israel,"  in  the  text,  and 
"The  Gazelle"  in  tlie  mar<!:in. 


THE   POETRY   OF   THE   BIBLE.  89 

Tell  it  not  in  Cnith, 

Publish  it  not  in  the  streets  of  Ashkelon  ; 
Lest  the  daughters  of  the  Philistines  rejoice, 

Lest  the  daughters  of  the  uncircumcised  triumph. 

Ye  mountains  of  Gilboa,  no  dew  nor  rains 

Come  upon  you,  and  ya  fields  of  offerings.  ^ 
For  there  the  shield  of  the  hero  lies  rusting,  ^ 

The  shield  of  Saul  not  anointed  with  oil.  ^ 

From  the  blood  of  the  slain,  from  the  fat  of  the  heroes, 

The  bow  of  Jonathan  turned  not  back, 
And  the  sword  of  Saul 

Returned  not  empt}'. 

Saul  and  Jonathan,  lovely  and  pleasant  in  their  lives. 

And  in  their  death  they  are  not  divided. 
They  were  swifter  than  eagles, 

They  were  stronger  than  lions. 

Ye  daughters  of  Israel,  weep  over  Saul, 

Who  clothed  you  in  scarlet  with  delight, 
Who  i)ut  ornaments  of  gold 

Upon  your  apparel.  ^ 

^  i"11t31^n  ^"iti^?  Sept.  aypol  a-apxf'-^t'i  Yulg.  ncque  sint  ngri  primitiarum, 
fertile  fields  from  which  the  first-fruits  are  gathered  and  sent  to  the  sanctuary. 
The  A.  V.  renders  with  Jerome  :  ''  nor  {let  there  he)  fields  of  offerings,"  the 
E.  Y. :  "neither  fields  of  offerings."  On  the  difiereut  interpretations  and 
conjectures  see  Erdmann  in  Lange's  Com.  It  is  a  poetical  malediction  or 
imprecation  of  such  complete  barrenness  that  not  even  enough  may  grow  on 
that  bloody  field  for  an  offering  of  first-fruits. 

-  Ot  polluted  1)y  blood  and  dust.  A  great  indignity  to  a  soldier.  Homer 
says  that  the  helmet  of  Patroclus  was  rolled  under  the  horses'  feet,  and  soiled 
with  blood  and  dust  (II.  xvi.  794).  The  E.  Y.,  following  the  Yulgate 
{ahjcctus),  translates  '^V^^  vilehj  cast  axcaij. 

2  But  with  Hood.  By  oil  the  shield  of  the  warrior  is  kept  bright.  The 
A.  Y.,  following  again  the  Yulgate  {quasi  non  csset),  supplies  "  as  though  he 
had  not  been  anointed,"  /.  e.,  as  if  he  had  not  been  a  king  (1  Sam.  x.  1). 
So  also  Herder  :  ^^ Koniges  Schild,  als  rriir  er  nimmer  mit  Oel  geheiligt.'''  But 
the  more  natural  interpretation  is  :  "'the  shield  of  Saul  was  not  anointed  with 
oil,"  as  was  usual  in  preparation  for  battle,  and  after  it  had  been  polluted 
by  blood  or  corrupted  by  rust  (Isa.  xxi.  5).  The  unanointed  shield  here  is 
an  emblem  of  utter  defeat  and  helplessness.  The  Iv.  Y.  has  in  the  text  "not 
anointed  with  oil,"  and  puts  on  the  margin  :   "  Or,  as  of  one  not  anointed.''^ 

^  Lowth  :  "This  passage  is  most  exquisite  composition.  The  women  of 
Israel  are  most  happily  introduced,  and  the  subject  of  the  encomium  is  most 
admirably  adapted  to  the  female  characters." 


90  THE   POETRY   OF   THE  BIBLE. 

(Chorus)  How  are  the  heroes  fallen  in  the  midst  of  the  battle  ! 
0  Jonathan^  slain  upon  thy  heights ! 

I  am  distressed  for  thee,  my  brother  Jonathan, 

Very  pleasant  hast  thou  been  unto  me  : 
Thy  love  to  me  was  wonderful, 

Passing  the  love  of  women,  ^ 

(Chorus)  How  are  the  heroes  fallen,"^ 

And  the  weapons  of  war  ^  perished. ' ' 

Lyric  poetry  continued  to  flourish  during  the  reigns  of  David 
and  Solomon,  then  declined  with  the  decline  of  the  nation,  and 
revived  for  a  short  period  with  the  restoration  of  the  temple  and 
the  theocracy,  when  the  harps  were  taken  from  the  willows  to 
accompany  again  the  songs  of  Zion.  It  is  a  matter  of  dispute 
among  commentators  whether  the  Psalter  contains  hymns  of  the 
Maccabsean  age.^ 

^  The  sweet,  tender,  devoted,  enduring  love  with  which  woman  loves.  A 
picture  of  the  ideal  of  friendship  sanctified  by  the  consecration  of  their  hearts 
to  Jehovah.  The  Vulgate  inserts  here  the  clause  :  Sicut  mater  toiicum  amat 
Jilium  suum,  ita  ego  te  mnabam,  which  has  no  foundation  either  in  the  Hebrew 
or  the  Septuagint. 

2  The  repetition  of  this  lament,  probably  by  the  chorus,  is  entirely  in  keep- 
ing with  the  nature  of  an  elegy,  which  likes  to  dwell  upon  the  grief,  and 
finds  relief  by  its  repeated  utterance. 

^  The  tlf^fl^f2  ^^'3  ^^'^  *^^  heroes  themselves,  as  the  living  weapons  of 
war.  So  Ewald  and  Erdmann  {die  Eusizcuge  des  Streits).  Comp.  Isa.  xiii.  15; 
Acts  ix.  15,  where  St.  Paul  is  called  "  a  chosen  vessel"  (aKevog).  It  is  less 
lively  and  poetic  to  understand  it  literally  of  the  material  of  war,  as  the 
Vulgate  does  [arma  hellica),  and  Herder  who  renders  : — 

^^Achivieficlen  die  Heldcn,  und  iJire  Waffen  des  Kricges 
Liegen  zerschlagen  umhcr.^^ 

^  Hitzig  and  other  radical  critics  assign  several  Psalms  to  tlie  heroic  age  of 
the  Maccabees,  when  the  Hebrew  canon  was  in  all  probability  already  closed. 
But  Hengstenberg,  Havernick,  Keil,  among  the  orthodox  divines,  Gesenius, 
Ewald,  Thenius,  Dillmann,  among  the  liberal  critics,  deny  the  possibility  of 
^Maccabffian  Psalms.  Ewald  says  (Preface  to  third  ed.  of  his  Coin,  on  the  Fs.) 
against  Hitzig:  "  Nothing  can  ha  more  false  and  perverse  than  to  suppose  that 
there  can  be  Maccabajan  poems  in  the  Psalter."  Delitzsch  {Com.  iihcr  den 
Psalter^  new  ed.,  18G7,  p.  9),  admits  the  possi))ility,  but  denies  the  existence 
of  such  late  Psiilms. 


THE   rOETEY   OF   THE   BIBLE.  91 

THE  PSALTER. 

The  Psalter  is  the  great  depository  of  the  lyric  poetry  of  the 
Jewish  church  and  the  inexhaustible  fountain  of  devotion  for  all 
ages.  Of  its  poetic  merit  and  enduring  spiritual  value  we  have 
already  spoken.^ 

All  the  Psalms  are  religious  lyrics,  but  of  different  kinds, 
which  are  designated  by  different  terms  in  the  titles  :^ 

Shir  (Sept.  ojSrj),  song  for  the  voice  alone. 

Ilizmor  (Sept.  ((,''a;.,ao?),  psalm,  song  of  praise,  with  instru- 
mental accompaniment  (uJao?). 

Maschil  ((ju>i(jsco(^,  el^  (ju'^-(jr^)j  a  skillfully  constructed  ode,  a 
reflective,  contemplative,  didactic  song. 

Michtham  {azr^/Mypacia  or  £;v  (TrriXoypaciav,  lit.,  song  of  inscrip- 
tion), a  golden  poem,  or  a  song  of  mysterious,  deep  import. 
(Delitzsch :  catch-word  poem.) 

Shiggaion,  an  excited,  irregular,  dithyrambic  ode. 

Thehlllahj  a  hymn  of  praise.  The  plural  thehillim  is  the 
Hebrew  title  of  the  Psalter. 

Thephillah,  a  prayer  in  song.  (Pss.  xvii.,  Ixxxvi.,  xc,  cxlii., 
Hab.  iii.) 

Shir  jedtdothj  song  of  loves,  erotic  poem  (Ps.  xlv.). 

Shir  hamma'aloth  (Sept.  wdrj  rwv  d'^d^a/^fxw'^,  Vulg.  canticum 
graduum,  A.  V.  '^  song  of  degrees^'),  most  probably  a  song  of 
the  goings  up,  i.e.,  a  pilgrim  song  for  the  journeys  to  the  yearly 
festivals  of  Jerusalem.  So,  also,  the  R.  V.,  which  renders  the 
title  '^song  of  ascents."  These  pilgrim  songs  are  among  the 
most  beautiful  in  the  whole  collection. 

Kinah  {^'^pv-^o?),  a  lament,  dirge,  elegy.*  Here  belong  the 
laments  of  David  for  Saul  and  Jonathan,  2  Sam.  i.  19-27,  for 
Abner  (2  Sam.  iii.  33,  34),  and  for  Absalom  (2  Sam.  xviii.  33), 
the  psalms  of  mourning  over  the  disasters  of  Judah  (Pss.  xlix., 
Ix.,  Ixxiii.,  cxxxvii.),  and  the  Lamentations  of  Jeremiah. 

^  See  above,  pp.  71,  72,  74,  76,  77,  78,  79. 

^  For  particulars  on  the  names  and  musical  titles  iu  the  inscriptions  of  the 
Psalms,  some  of  ^vhich  are  very  obscure  and  variously  interpreted,  we  must 
refer  to  the  commentaries  of  Ewald,  Hitzig,  Delitzsch,  Moll  (iu  Lange), 
Hupfeld  (Riehm's  edition),  Perowne,  and  Cheyne. 

^  From  e  e  /.tyetv^  to  cry  woe,  woe  I  Comp.  the  German,  Klaglicd,  Trauer- 
lied,  Todtcnlied,  GraUicd. 


92  THE   POETEY  OF   THE   BIBLE. 

The  titles  of  the  Psahns  are  not  original,  but  contain  the 
ancient  Jewish  traditions,  more  or  less  valuable,  concerning  the 
authorship,  historical  occasion,  musical  character  and  liturgical 
use  of  the  Psalms.  Seventy-three  poems  are  ascribed  to  David 
nil'?);^  twelve  to  Asaph  (w^DK'?),  one  of  David's  musicians 
(Pss.  1.,  Ixxiii-lxxxiii.);  eleven  or  twelve  to  the  sons  of  Korah, 
a  family  of  priests  and  singers  of  the  age  of  David  (Pss.  xlii.- 
xlix.,  Ixxxiv.,  Ixxxv.,  Ixxxvii.,  Ixxxviii.);  one  to  Heman  the 
Ezrahite  (Ixxxviii.)  ;^  one  to  Ethan  the  Ezrahite  (Ixxxix) ;  two 
to  Solomon  (Ixxii.,  cxxvii.) ;  one  to  Moses  (xc.) ;  while  fifty  are 
anonymous  and  hence  called  Orphan  Psalms  in  the  Talmud. 
The  Septuagint  assigns  some  of  them  to  Jeremiah  (cxxxvii.), 
Haggai,  and  Zechariah  (cxlvi.,  cxlvii.). 

The  Psalter  is  divided  into  five  books,  and  the  close  of  each 
is  indicated  by  a  doxology  and  a  double  Amen.  In  this  division 
several  considerations  seem  to  have  been  combined — authorship 
and  chronology,  liturgical  use,  the  distinction  of  the  divine 
names  (Elohistic  and  Jehovistic  Psalms),  perhaps  also  the  five- 
fold division  of  the  Thorah  (the  Psalter  being,  as  Delitzsch 
says,  the  subjective  response  or  echo  from  the  heart  of  Israel  to 
the  law  of  God).  We  have  an  analogy  in  Christian  hymn-  and 
tune-books,  which  combine  the  order  of  subjects  and  the  order 
of  the  ecclesiastical  year,  modifying  both  by  considerations  of 

^  Thirty-seven  in  the  first  Book,  Ps.  iii.-xli.,  18  in  the  second,  1  in  the 
third,  2  in  the  fourth,  15  in  the  fifth  Book.  The  Septuagint  ascribes  to  David 
85  Psalms  (including  xcix.  and  civ.,  which  are  proljably  his).  The  N.  T. 
quotes  as  his  also  the  anonymous  Pss.  ii.  and  xcv.  (Acts  iv.  25,  26  ;  Heb.  iv. 
7).  Ps.  ii.  certainly  has  the  impress  of  his  style  and  age  (as  Ewald  admits). 
But  some  of  the  Psalms  ascribed  to  him,  either  in  the  Hebrew  or  Greek  Bible, 
betray  by  their  Chaldaisms  a  later  age.  Hengstenberg  and  Alexander  mostly 
follow  the  Jewish  tradition;  Delitzsch  {Commcntar  uher  die  Fsabncn,  p.  7) 
thinks  that  at  least  fifty  may  be  defended  as  Davidic  ;  while  Hupfeld,  Ewald, 
and  especially  Hitzig,  considerably  reduce  the  number.  Ewald  regards  Pss. 
iii.,  iv.,  vii.,  viii.,  xi.,  xv.,  xviii.,  xix.,  xxiv.,  xxix.,  xxxii.,  ci.,  as  undoubt- 
edly Davidic  ;  Ps.  ii.,  xviii.,  xxvii.,  Ixii.,  Ixiv.,  ex.,  cxxxviii.,  as  coming 
very  near  to  David. 

2  Tliis  Psalm  is  called  sJiir  mizmor  and  maschil,  and  is  ascribed  l)oth  to  the 
sons  of  Korali  and  to  Heman  the  Ezrahite,  of  tlie  age  of  kSolomon  (1  Kings  v. 
11).  The  older  commentators  generally  regard  the  former  as  the  singers  of 
the  .s7»>,  the  latter  as  the  iuithor  of  the  maschil.  Hupfeld  thinks  that  the 
title  combines  two  conflicting  traditions. 


THE   POETRY   OF   THE   BIBLE.  93 

convenience,  and  often  adding  one  or  more  ap})endixes.  The 
five  books  rei)resent  the  gradual  growth  of  the  collection  till  its 
completion  after  the  exile,  about  the  time  of  Ezra.  The  collec- 
tion of  the  first  book,  consisting  chiefly  of  Psalms  of  David, 
may  be  traced  to  Solomon,  who  would  naturally  provide  for  the 
preservation  of  his  father's  poetry,  or,  at  all  events,  to  King 
Hezekiah,  who  "commanded  the  Levites  to  sing  praise  unto  the 
Lord  with  the  words  of  David  and  of  Asaph,  the  Seer '^  (2  Chron. 
xxi.  30  ;  Prov.  xxxv.  1). 

The  Revised  Version  has  restored  the  Hebrew  division,  which 
is  ignored  in  King  James'  Version. 

If  we  regard  chiefly  the  contents,  we  may  divide  the  Psalms 
into  Psalms  of  praise  and  adoration.  Psalms  of  thanksgiving, 
Psalms  of  faith  and  hope  under  affliction,^  penitential  Psalms, 
didactic  Psalms,  historic  Psalms,  Pilgrim  Songs  (cxx.-cxxxvi.), 
and  prophetic  or  Messianic  Psalms. 

THE  LAMENTATIONS. 
The  Lamentations  (Hl^p,  'Vv^<'',  eleglce)  of  Jeremiah  likewise 
belong  to  lyric  poetry.  Tliey  are  the  most  extensive  elegy  in 
the  Bible.  They  are  a  funeral  dirge  of  the  theocracy  and  the 
holy  city  after  its  destruction  by  Nebuchadnezzar  and  the 
Chaldees,  and  give  most  pathetic  utterance  to  the  most  intense 
grief.  The  first  lines  strike  the  key-note.  Jerusalem  is  per- 
sonified and  bewailed  as  a  solitary  widow  : — 

(Aleph)      "  How  sitteth  solitary 

The  city  once  full  of  people  ! 
She  has  become  as  a  widow  ! 

She  that  was  great  among  the  nations, 
A  princess  over  the  provinces, 
Has  become  subject  to  tribute. 

(Beth)  She  weepeth  bitterly  in  the  night, 

And  her  tears  are  upon  her  cheeks  ; 
She  hath  no  comforter 

From  among  all  her  lovers  : 
All  her  friends  have  turned  traitors  to  her, 

They  have  become  her  enemies. 

^  What  the  Germans  Avould  call  Kreuz-  und  Trost-Fsalmen, 


94  THE   POETRY   OF   THE  BIBLE. 

(Lamed)         Is  it  nothing  to  you,  all  ye  that  pass  by  ? 

Behold  and  see, 
If  there  be  any  sorrow  like  unto  mj^  sorrow, 

Which  is  inflicted  on  me, 
Wherewith  Jehovah  hath  afflicted  me 

In  the  day  of  his  fierce  anger. ' ' 

The  ruin  and  desolation,  the  carnage  and  famine,  the  pollu- 
tion of  the  temple,  the  desecration  of  the  Sabbath,  the  massacre 
of  the  priests,  the  dragging  of  the  chiefs  into  exile,  and  all  the 
horrors  and  miseries  of  a  long  siege,  contrasted  with  the  re- 
membrance of  former  glories  and  glad  festivities,  and  intensified 
by  the  awful  sense  of  Divine  wrath,  are  drawn  with  life-like 
colors  and  form  a  picture  of  overwhelming  calamity  and  sad- 
ness. ^^  Every  letter  is  written  with  a  tear,  every  word  is  the 
sob  of  a  broken  heart  V^ 

Yet  Jeremiah  does  not  forget  that  the  covenant  of  Jehovah 
with  his  people  still  stands.  In  the  stormy  sunset  of  the  theo- 
cracy he  beheld  the  dawn  of  a  brighter  day,  and  a  new  covenant 
written,  not  on  tables  of  stone,  but  on  the  heart.  The  utterance 
of  his  grief,  like  the  shedding  of  tears,  was  also  a  relief,  and 
left  his  mind  in  a  calmer  and  serener  frame.  Beginning  with 
wailing  and  weeping,  he  ends  with  a  question  of  hope,  and  with 
the  prayer : — 

"Turn  us  unto  Thee,  0  Jehovah, 
And  we  shall  be  turned  ; 
Renew  our  days  as  of  old  !  " 

These  Lamentations  have  done  their  work  very  effectually, 
and  are  doing  it  still.  They  have  soothed  the  weary  years  of 
the  Babylonian  Exile,  and  after  the  return  they  have  kept  up  the 
lively  remembrance  of  the  deepest  humiliation  and  the  judg- 
ments of  a  righteous  God.  On  the  ninth  day  of  the  month  of 
Ab  (July)  they  are  read  year  after  year  with  fasting  and  weep- 
ing by  that  remarkable  people  who  are  still  wandering  in  exile 
over  the  face  of  tlie  earth,  finding  a  grave  in  many  lands,  a 
home  in  none.  Among  Ciiristians  the  poem  is  best  appreciated 
in  times  of  private  affliction  and  ])ublic  calamity  ;  a  companion  in 
mourning,  it  serves  also  as  a  book  of  comfort  and  consolation. 

Tlie  poetic  structure  of  the  Lamentations  is  the  most  artificial 


THE   POETRY   OF   THE   BIBLE.  95 

in  the  Bible.  The  first  four  chapters  are  alphabetically  arranged, 
like  the  119th  and  six  other  Psalms,  and  Proverbs  xxxi.  10-31. 
Every  stanza  begins  with  a  letter  of  the  Hebrew  al[)habet  in 
regular  order ;  all  the  stanzas  are  nearly  of  the  same  length; 
each  stanza  has  three  nearly  balanced  clauses  or  members  which 
together  constitute  one  meaning  ;  chaps,  i.,  ii.  and  iv.  contain 
twenty-two  stanzas  each,  according  to  the  number  of  Hebrew 
letters;  the  third  chapter  has  three  alphabetic  series,  making 
sixty-six  stanzas  in  all.  Dante  chose  the  terza  rima  for  his 
sublime  vision  of  Hell,  Purgatory,  and  Paradise ;  Petrarca  the 
complicated  sonnet  for  the  tender  and  passionate  language  of 
love.  The  author  of  Lamentations  may  have  chosen  his  struc- 
ture as  a  discipline  and  check  upon  the  intensity  of  his  sorrow  — 
perhaps  also  as  a  help  to  the  memory.  Poems  of  this  kind 
once  learnt,  are  not  easily  forgotten.  '^  In  the  scatterings  and 
wanderings  of  families,"  says  Isaac  Taylor,  "and  in  lonely 
journeyings,  in  deserts  and  cities,  where  no  synagogue-service 
could  be  enjoyed,  the  metrical  Scriptures — infixed  as  they 
were  in  the  memory,  by  the  very  means  of  these  artificial 
devices  of  verses  and  of  alphabetic  order,  and  of  alliteration — 
became  food  to  the  soul.  Thus  was  the  religious  constancy  of 
the  people  and  its  brave  endurance  of  injury  and  insult  sus- 
tained and  animated.'^ 

LYRICS  IN  THE  NEW  TESTAMENT. 
The  Christian  dispensation  opens  with  a  series  of  lyrical 
poems  of  thanksgiving  and  praise  for  the  fulfilment  of  the 
hopes  of  Israel  and  the  salvation  of  mankind  from  the  curse  of 
sin  and  death  by  the  coming  of  the  Messiah.  These  poems  are 
the  last  of  Hebrew  psalms  and  the  first  of  Christian  hymns. 
They  connect  the  Old  and  jN^ew  Testaments.  Tliey  can  be  trans- 
lated word  for  word  into  Hebrew,  and  were  probably  composed 
in  that  language.  They  are  contained  in  the  first  two  chapters 
of  Luke,  which  have  all  the  charms  of  poetry  and  innocent 
childhood,  and  may  be  called  the  Gospel  of  Paradise  Regained.^ 

'  Renan  calls  Luke  the  most  literary  among  the  Evangelists,  and  liis  Gospel 
the  most  beautiful  book  in  existence  {'^  c^ est  le plus  beau  Uvre  qu^il  y  uW''). 
Les  Evangiles,  p.  282  sq. 


96  THE   POETRY   OF   THE   BIBLE. 

These  poems  resound  from  Sunday  to  Sunday  throughout  the 
churches  of  Christendom,  and  will  never  grow  old.  They  strike 
the  key-note  of  Christian  hymnody.  They  are  called  after  the 
first  words  in  the  Latin  version,  the  '^  Magnificat "  of  the  Virgin 
Mary  (i.  46),  which  is  divided  into  four  stanzas  of  four  lines 
each,  and  begins  : — 

"  My  soul  doth  magnify  the  Lord, 

And  my  spirit  has  rejoiced  in  God  my  Saviour  ; "'' 

the  "  Benedictus ''  of  Zachariah  (i.  68),  who,  being  filled  with 
the  Holy  Spirit,  prophesied,  saying, 

"Blessed  be  the  Lord,  the  God  of  Israel ; 

For  lie  hath  visited  and  wrought  redemption  for  his  people  ;" 

the  "  Gloria  in  Excelsis  ^^  of  the  heavenly  host  announcing  the 
birth  of  the  Saviour  (ii.  14) : — 

' '  Glory  to  God  in  the  highest. 

And  on  earth  peace  among  men  of  his  good  pleasure  ;"  ^ 

and  the  "  Nunc  Dimittis  "  of  the  aged  Simeon  (ii.  29),  who  was 
permitted  to  hold  the  Christ-child  in  his  arms  and  sang: — 

"Now  lettest  Thou  Thy  servant  depart,  0  Lord, 
According  to  Thy  word,  in  peace. ' ' 

The  "  Ave  Maria,"  the  favorite  prayer  of  Roman  Catholics, 
is  an  amplified  combination  of  the  salutation  of  the  angel 
(i.  28):- 

^  Or,  "of  his  good  will."  The  Revised  Version  :  "in  whom  He  is  well 
pleased."  This  translation  is  supported  by  the  best  ancient  authorities, 
which  read  the  genitive  (evihuiag,  home  voluntatis,  of  t/ood  will  or  pleasure), 
instead  of  the  nominative  {tixhu'ia,  voluntas).  It  gives  a  doable  parallelism 
with  three  correspoudi ng  ideas  :  ' '  glory  ' '  and  ' '  peace  ;' '  "  God  ' '  and  ' '  men ;' ' 
"  in  the  highest"  (in  heaven)  and  "on  earth."  The  textus  receptus  (ebihKia), 
suggests  a  triple  parallelism,  the  third  being  a  substantial  repetition  of  the 
second.  The  Authorized  Version  follows  this  text  but  ignores  the  preposi- 
tion iv  by  translating  ^^  toivards  men,"  instead  of  "  rt//to/i^  men."  The  Ke- 
vi.sed  Version  adopts  the  older  reading  in  the  text  and  gives  the  other  in  the 
margin  ("  good  pleasure  among  men").  Dr.  Hort  {Notes  and  Seleet  headings, 
ii.  50)  suggests  a  more  equal  division  of  the  lines  Ijy  connecting  "  and  (ni 
earth"  with  the  lirst  clause,  thus: — 

"  Cilory  to  God  in  the  highest  and  upon  earth  ; 
I'eace  iiniong  men  of  his  good  pleasure," 


THE   POETRY   OF   THE   BIBLE.  97 

"Hail,  tliou  art  highly  favored, 
The  Lord  is  with  thee  ;  " 

and  of  the  salutation  of  Elizabeth  (i.  42) : — 

"Blessed  art  thou  among  women. 

And  blessed  is  the  fruit  of  thy  womb. ' ' 

There  are  fragments  or  reminiscences  of  primitive  Christian 
hymns  scattered  throughout  the  Epistles,  and  the  Apocalypse. 
Paul  exhorts  his  readers  to  '^  teach  and  admonish  one  another 
with  psalms  and  hymns  and  spiritual  songs,  singing  with  grace 
in  your  hearts  unto  God  ''  (Col.  iii.  16).  The  passage,  1  Tim.  iii. 
16,  is  best  explained  as  a  quotation  from  a  hymn  in  praise  of 
Christ,  especially  if  we  adopt  (with  the  Revised  Version)  the 
better  attested  reading  ^'  Who "  (o;-,  referring  to  a  preceding 
"  Christus ''  or  ''  Logos  ^'),  instead  of  ''  God  '^  (.!/s^?)  :— 

' '  He  who  was  manifested  in  the  flesh, 
Justified  in  the  spirit, 
Seen  of  angels. 

Preached  among  the  nations, 
Believed  on  in  the  world, 
Received  up  in  glory. ' '  ^ 

Another  quotation  from  an  unknown  source  is  introduced  by 
"/iesaith,^^Eph.  v.  14  :— 

"  Awake,  thou  that  sleepest. 
And  arise  from  the  dead, 
And  Christ  shall  shine  upon  thee. ' ' 

The  passage  1  Pet.  iii.  10-12  reads  like  a  psalm  and  is  metri- 
cally arranged  in  the  Test,  of  Westcott  and  Hort. 


II.  DIDACTIC  POETRY. 

Didactic  poetry  is  the  combined  product  of  imagination  and 
reflection.  It  seeks  to  instruct  as  well  as  to  please.  It  is  not 
simply  the  outpouring  of  subjective  feeling  which  carries  along  its 
own  end  and  reward,  but  aims  at  an  object  beyond  itself.     It  is 

^  Westcott  and  Hort  in  their  Greek  Test,  divide  the  passage  into  two 
stanzas  of  three  lines  each. 

7 


98  THE  POETRY  OF   THE   BIBLE. 

the  connecting  link  between  pure  poetry  and  philosophy.  It  sup- 
plies among  the  Shemitic  nations  the  place  of  ethics,  with  this 
difference,  that  it  omits  the  reasoning  and  argumentative  process, 
and  gives  only  the  results  of  observation  and  reflection  in  a 
pleasing,  mostly  proverbial,  sententious  style,  which  sticks  to  the 
memory.  It  is  laid  down  in  the  Proverbs  and  Ecclesiastes. 
Many  Psalms  also  are  didactic  (i.,  xxxvii.,  €xix.,  etc.),  and  the 
Book  of  Job  is  a  didactic  drama. 

The  palmy  period  of  didactic  or  gnomic  poetry  was  the  peaceful 
and  brilliant  reign  of  Solomon,  which  lasted  forty  years  (B.  C. 
1015-975).  He  was  a  favorite  child  of  nature  and  grace.  He 
occupies  the  same  relation  to  the  Proverbs  as  David  does  to  the 
Psalter,  being  the  chief  author  and  model  for  imitation.  He 
was  the  philosopher,  as  David  was  the  warrior  and  singer,  of 
Israel.  The  fame  of  his  wisdom  was  so  great  that  no  less  than 
three  thousand  proverbs  were  ascribed  to  him.  ^^  God  gave 
Solomon  wisdom  and  understanding  exceeding  much,  and  large- 
ness of  heart,  even  as  the  sand  that  is  on  the  sea-shore.  And 
Solomon^s  wisdom  excelled  the  wisdom  of  all  the  children  of 
the  east,  and  all  the  wisdom  of  Egypt.  For  he  was  wiser  than 
all  men  ;  than  Ethan  the  Ezrahite,  and  Heman,  and  Chalcol, 
and  Darda,  the  sons  of  Mahol :  and  his  fame  was  in  all  the 
nations  round  about.  And  he  spake  three  thousand  proverbs  : 
and  his  songs  were  a  thousand  and  five.  And  he  spake  of  trees, 
from  the  cedar  that  is  in  Lebanon  even  unto  the  hyssop  that 
springeth  out  of  the  wall :  he  spake  also  of  beasts,  and  of  fowl, 
and  of  creeping  things,  and  of  fishes.  And  there  came  of  all 
peoples  to  hear  the  wisdom  of  Solomon,  from  all  kings  of  the 
earth,  who  had  heard  of  his  wisdom."  (1  Kings  iv.  29-34.) 
According  to  a  rabbinical  tradition,  Aristotle  derived  his  philoso- 
phy from  the  Solomonic  writings  which  Alexander  the  Great 
sent  him  from  Jerusalem.-^ 

*  Comp.  on  the  wisdom  of  Solomon,  Ewald's  GcHchiclite  dcs  VoJkcs  Israel, 
Vol.  III.  pp.  374  sqq. ;  and  Stanley's  Lectures  on  the  Histonj  of  the  Jewish 
Church,  Vol,  II.  pp.  252  sqq.  Ewald  exclaims  with  relerence  to  the  visit  of 
the  Queen  of  Sheba  (p.  379) :  "0  glilckUehe  Zeit,  wo  maehtige  FUrsfen  mitten 
in  ihrcn  von  heiliger  Gottesruhe  umfriedigten  Landern  so  zu  einander  ivallfahrten, 
so  in  Weishcit,  und  ivas  noch  mehr  ist,  im  regen  Suchen  dcrselhen  ivetteifern 
kotincn .'" 


THE   POETRY   OF   THE   BIBLE.  99 

THE  PROYEKBS. 

The  usual  word  for  a  didactic  poem  is  mdshdl  (7ti^/tD  -apotfxca, 
TzapaiSo/.rj),  a  likeuess,  similitude,  comparison  ;  then,  in  a  wider 
sense,  a  short,  sharp,  pithy  maxim,  sententious  saying,  gnome, 
proverb.  It  is  couched  in  figurative,  striking,  pointed  language. 
Brevity  is  the  soul  of  a  proverb  as  well  as  of  wit.  A  proverb 
contains  rnultum  in  parvo.  It  condenses  the  result  of  long  ob- 
servation and  experience  in  a  few  words  which  strike  the  nail  on 
the  head  and  are  easily  remembered.  It  is  the  philosophy  for 
the  people,  the  wisdom  of  the  street.  The  Orientals,  especially 
the  Arabs,  are  very  fond  of  this  kind  of  teaching.  It  suited 
their  wants  and  limits  of  knowledge  much  better  than  an  elabo- 
rate system  of  philosophy.  And  even  now  a  witty  or  pithy 
proverb  has  more  practical  effect  upon  the  common  people  than 
whole  sermons  and  tracts.  ^ 

The  Proverbs  of  the  Bible  are  far  superior  to  any  collection  of 
the  kind,  such  as  the  sayings  of  the  Seven  Wise  Men  of  Greece, 
the  Aurea  Carmina  attributed  to  Pythagoras,  the  Remains  of 
the  Poetse  Gnomici,  the  collection  of  Arabic  proverbs.  They 
bear  the  stamp  of  Divine  inspiration.  They  abound  in  polished 
and  sparkling  gems.  They  contain  the  practical  wisdom 
(chokma)  of  Israel,  and  have  furnished  the  richest  contributions 
to  the  dictionary  of  proverbs  among  Christian  nations.  They 
trace  wisdom  to  its  true  source,  the  fear  of  Jehovah  (chap.  i.  7). 

Nothing  can  be  finer  than  the  description  of  Wisdom  in  the 
eighth  chapter,  wdiere  she  is  personified  as  the  eternal  compan- 
ion and  delight  of  God,  and  commended  beyond  all  earthly 
treasures  : — 

"Wisdom  is  better  than  rubies, 

And  no  precious  things  compare  with  her. 

I,  wisdom,  dwell  with  prudence, 
And  find  out  knowledge  and  discretion. 

The  fear  of  Jehovah  is  to  hate  evil ; 
Pride,  haughtiness,  and  the  evil  way. 
And  the  peiTerse  mouth,  do  I  hate. 

8  Cicero  says  :  "  Gravisssimce  sunt  ad  hcate  vivendum  breviter  enunciatse  sen- 
ientiss.^^ 


100  THE   POETRY   OF   THE   BIBLE. 

Counsel  is  mine,  and  sound  knowledge  ; 
I  am  understanding  ;  I  have  strength. 

By  me  kings  reign, 

And  princes  decree  justice. 
By  me  princes  rule, 

And  nobles,  even  all  the  judges  of  the  earth. 

I  love  them  that  love  me  ; 

And  they  that  seek  me  early  shall  find  me. 

Biches  and  honor  are  with  me. 

Yea,  enduring  riches  and  righteousness. 

My  fi-uit  is  better  than  gold,  yea,  than  refined  gold 
And  my  increase  than  choice  silver. 

I  walk  in  the  way  of  righteousness, 

In  the  midst  of  the  paths  of  judgment  ; 

To  ensure  abundance  to  those  that  love  me, 
And  to  fill  their  storehouse. 


Blessed  is  the  man  that  heareth  me, 

Watching  daily  at  my  gates. 

Waiting  at  the  posts  of  my  doors  ! 
For  whosoever  findeth  me  findeth  life  ; 

And  shall  obtain  flivor  from  Jehovah. ' ' 

The  description  of  the  model  Hebrew  woman  in  her  domestic 
and  social  relations  (chap.  xxxi.  10-31,  in  the  acrostic  form)  has 
no  parallel  for  truthfulness  and  beauty  in  ancient  literature,  and 
forms  the  appropriate  close  of  this  book  of  practical  wisdom  ; 
for  from  the  family,  of  which  woman  is  the  presiding  genius, 
springs  private  and  public  virtue  and  national  prosperity. 

^'  The  Book  of  Proverbs,"  says  a  distinguished  Anglican 
divine,  "  is  not  on  a  level  with  the  Prophets  or  the  Psalms.  It 
approaches  human  things  and  things  divine  from  quite  another 
side.  It  has  even  something  of  a  worldly,  prudential  look, 
unlike  the  rest  of  the  Bible.  But  this  is  the  very  reason  wliy 
its  recognition  as  a  Sacred  Book  is  so  useful.  It  is  the  philoso- 
phy of  practical  life.  It  is  the  sign  to  us  that  the  Bible  does 
not  despise  common  sense  and  discretion.  It  impresses  upon  us, 
in  the  most  forcible  manner,  the  value  of  intelligence  and  pru- 


THE   POETEY   OF   THE   BIBLE.  101 

dence,  and  of  a  good  education.  The  whole  strength  of  the 
Hebrew  language,  and  of  the  sacred  authority  of  the  book  is 
thrown  upon  these  homely  truths.  It  deals,  too,  in  that  refined, 
discriminating,  careful  view  of  the  finer  shades  of  human  char- 
acter, so  often  overlooked  by  theologians,  but  so  necessary  to  any 
true  estimate  of  human  life.  '  The  heart  knoweth  its  own  bitter- 
ness, and  the  stranger  does  not  intermeddle  with  its  joy.'  How 
much  is  there,  in  that  single  sentence,  of  consolation,  of  love,  of 
forethought !  And,  above  all,  it  insists,  over  and  over  again, 
upon  the  doctrine  that  goodness  is  ^wisdom/  and  that  wickedness 
and  vice  are  'folli/.^  There  may  be  many  other  views  of  virtue 
and  vice,  of  holiness  and  sin,  better  and  higher  than  this.  But 
there  will  always  be  some  in  the  world  who  will  need  to  remem- 
ber that  a  good  man  is  not  only  religious  and  just,  but  wise;  and 
that  a  bad  man  is  not  only  wicked  and  sinful,  but  a  miserable, 
contemptible  fool.''  ^ 

The  poetic  structure  of  the  Proverbs  is  that  of  Hebrew  paral- 
lelism in  its  various  forms.  They  consist  of  single,  double, 
triple,  or  more  couplets;  the  members  corresponding  to  each 
other  in  sense  and  diction,  eitlier  synonymously  or  antithetically. 
Delitzsch  calls  them  two-liners,  four-liners,  six-liners,  eight- 
liners.^  The  first  section,  x.-xxii.  16,  contains  exclusively  two- 
liners.  Besides  these  there  are  a  few  three-liners,  five-liners 
and  seven-liners,  where  the  odd  line  is  either  a  repetition  or  a 
reason  for  the  idea  expressed  in  the  first  lines.  A  few  speci- 
mens w^ill  make  this  clear. 

i.  Single  synonymous  couplets  : — 

Chap.  hi.  1.   "My  son,  forget  not  my  law : 

And  let  thy  heart  keep  my  commandments." 

12.    "Whom  Jehovah  lovetli  He  correcteth  : 

Even  as  a  father  the  son  in  whom  he  delighteth. " 

^  Deau  Stanley,  Vol.  II.,  p.  269.  A  different  view  is  presented  and  elabo- 
rately defended  in  the  comnieutary  of  Rev.  John  ]Miller,  of  Princeton  (New 
York,  1872),  who  maintains  that  the  Proverbs,  being  an  inspired  book,  can 
have  no  secular,  but  must  have  tliroughout  a  spiritual,  meaning.  He  charges 
King  James'  version  with  making  the  book  "hopelessly  secular  in  many 
places"  (p.  12).     This  view  is  paradox  rather  than  orthodox. 

^  Zweizeiler^  Vierzeiler,  Scchszeiler,  Achtzeiler.  Commentary  on  Proverbs, 
Leipz.,  1873,  pp.  8  sqq. 


102  THE   POETRY   OF   THE   BIBLE. 

13.   "Blessed  is  the  man  who  finds  wisdom  : 

And  the  man  who  obtains  understanding. ' ' 

XT.  25.    "The  Kberal  soul  shall  be  made  fat : 

And  he  that  watereth  shall  himself  be  watered. ' ' 

XVI.  32.    "He  that  is  slow  to  anger  is  better  than  the  mighty  : 

And  he  that  ruleth  his   own  spirit  than  he  who 
taketh  a  city. ' ' 

2.  Single  antithetic  couplets  : — 

Chap.  x.  1.   "A  wise  son  maketh  a  glad  father  : 

But  a  foolish  son  is  the  grief  of  his  mother. ' ' 

12.    "  Hatred  stirreth  up  strifes  : 

But  love  covereth  all  sins. ' ' 

16.    "The  wages  of  the  righteous  is  hfe  : 
The  gain  of  the  wicked  is  sin. ' ' 

XIII.  9.    "The  light  of  the  righteous  shall  be  joyous  : 

But  the  lamp  of  the  wicked  shall  go  out. ' ' 

24.    ' '  He  that  spareth  his  rod  hateth  his  son  : 

But  he  that  loveth  him  giveth  him  timely  chas- 
tisement." 

XVIII.  17.    "He  that  is  first  in  his  own  cause  seemeth  right : 
But  his  neighbor  cometh  and  searcheth  him." 

3.  Single  couplets  which  merely  express  a  comparison  — 

Chap.  XXVII.  8.   "As  a  bird  that  wandereth  from  her  nest, 

So  is  a  man  that  wandereth  from  his  place." 

15.  "A  continual  dropping  in  a  very  rainy  day, 

And  a  contentious  woman  are  alike. ' ' 

16.  "As  in  water  flice  answereth  to  face, 

So  the  heart  of  man  to  man. 

4.  Single  couplets  where  the  second   member  completes  the 
idea  of  the  first  or  assigns  a  reason  or  a  qualification  : — 

Chap.  xvi.  24.    ' '  Pleasant  words  are  as  a  honey-comb, 

Sweet  to  the  soul  and  health  to  the  bones." 

31.    "The  hoaiy  head  is  a  crown  of  glory, 

If  it  be  found  in  the  way  of  righteousness." 


THE   POETRY   OF   THE   BIBLE.  103 

5.  Three-liners : — 

Chap.  hi.  3.    "  Let  not  mercy  and  tnith  forsake  thee  : 
Bind  them  about  thy  neck  ; 
{Si/non}j7nous)  Write  them  upon  the  table  of  thine  heart." 

XXVIII.  10.    "Whoso  causeth  the  righteous  to  go  astray  in  an  evil 
way  : 
He  shall  fall  himself  into  his  own  pit, 
(Antithetic)  But  the  upright  shall  inherit  good  things." 

XXVII.  10.   "Thine  own  friend  and  thy  father's  friend  forsake  not : 
Neither  go  into  thy  brother's  house  in  the  day  of 
thy  calamity  ; 
(Reason)  For  better  is  a  neighbor  near  than  a  brother  afar  off. ' ' 

6.  Double  couplets  or  four-liners:  xxiii.  15  sq. ;  xxiv.  3  sq. ; 
28  sq. ;  xxx.  5  sq.,  17  sq. ;  xxii.  22  sq.,  24  sq.  These  are  all 
synonymous,  or  synthetic,  or  corroboratory,  but  there  seems  to 
be  no  example  of  an  antithetic  four-liner. 

7.  Five-liners ;  the  last  three  usually  explaining  and  confirm- 
ing the  idea  of  the  first  two  lines :  xxxiii.  4  sq. ;  xxv.  6  sq. ; 
xxx.  32  sq. 

8.  Triple  couplets  or  six-liners,  which  spin  out  an  idea  with 
more  or  less  repetition  or  confirmations  and  illustrations :  xxiii. 
1-3,  12-14,  19-21;  xxiv.  11  sq.  ;  xxx.  29-31. 

9.  Seven-liners :  xxiii.  6-8.  The  only  specimen  in  the  Pro- 
verbs. 

10.  Quadruple  couplets  or  eight-liners:  xxiii.  22-25. 

But  these  four,  six  and  eight-liners,  so-called,  may  be  easily 
resolved  into  two,  three  or  four  single  couplets.  Take,  e.g., 
chap,  xxiii.  12-14,  which  Delitzsch  quotes  as  a  six-liner,  and  we 
have  there  simply  three  couplets  wdiich  carry  out  and  unfold 
one  idea,  or  expand  the  mashal  sentence  into  a  mashal  poem  : 

' '  Apply  thy  heart  to  instruction  : 

And  thine  ears  to  the  words  of  knowledge. 
Withhold  not  correction  from  the  child  : 

For  if  thou  beat  him  with  a  rod,  he  shall  not  die. 
Thou  shalt  beat  him  with  the  rod, 

And  shalt  deliver  his  soul  from  Sheol. ' ' 


104  THE  POETRY  OF  THE  BIBLE. 


ECCLESIASTES. 


Ecclesiastes  or  Koheleth  is  a  philosophic  poem,  not  in  broken, 
disconnected  maxims  of  wisdom,  like  the  Proverbs,  but  in  a 
series  of  soliloquies  of  a  soul  perplexed  and  bewildered  by 
doubt,  yet  holding  fast  to  fundamental  truth,  and  looking  from 
the  vanities  beneath  the  sun  to  the  external  realities  above  the 
sun.  It  is  a  remarkable  specimen  of  Hebrew  scepticism  sub- 
dued and  moderated  by  Hebrew^  faith  in  God  and  his  command- 
ments, in  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  the  judgment  to  come,  the 
paramount  value  of  true  piety.  It  corresponds  to  the  old  age  of 
Solomon,  as  the  Song  of  Songs  reflects  the  flowery  spring  of 
his  youth,  and  the  Proverbs  the  ripe  wisdom  of  his  manhood.^ 
Whether  written  by  the  great  monarch,  or  more  probably  by 
a  much  later  author,  it  personates  him  (i.  12)  and  gives  the  last 
sad  results  of  his  experience  after  a  long  life  of  unrivalled  wis- 
dom and  unrivalled  folly,  namely,  the  overwhelming  impression 
of  the  vanity  of  all  things  earthly,  with  the  concluding  lesson 
of  the  fear  of  God,  which  checks  the  tendency  to  despair,  and 
is  the  star  of  hope  in  the  midnight  darkness  of  doubt. 

The  key-note  is  struck  in  the  opening  lines,  repeated  at  the 
close  (xii.  3) : — 

' '  0  vanity  of  vanities  !  Koheleth  saith  ; 
0  vanity  of  vanities  !  all — vanity  ! ' ' 

This  is  the  negative  side.     But  the  leading  positive  idea  and  aim, 
or  "the  end   of  the   matter,^'   is  expressed    in  the  concluding 

words : — 

"  Fear  God  and  keep  His  commandments, 
For  this  is  all  of  man.  ^ 

For  Grod  shall  bring  everything  into  judgment, 
Whether  it  be  good  or  whether  it  be  evil. ' ' 

Some  regard  Koheleth  as  an  ethical  treatise  in  prose,  with 
regular  logical   divisions.     But  it  is  full  of  poetic  inspiration, 

^  This  comparison  was  made  by  Rabbi  Jonathan  on  the  assumption  of  the 
Solomonic  authorship  of  the  three  works. 

^  The  Authorized  Version  inserts  "  tlie  whole  f/u/^of  man."  The  Revised 
Version  puts  on  the  margin  as  an  alternate  rendering  :  "This  is  ihc  duiij  of 
all  men." 


THE   POETRY   OF   THE   BIBLE.  105 

and  in  part  at  least  also  poetic  in  form,  with  enough  of  rhyth- 
mical parallelism  to  awaken  an  emotional  interest  in  these  sad 
soliloquies  and  questionings  of  the  poet.  Prof.  Tayler  Lewis 
(in  his  additions  to  Zockler's  Commentary  in  Lange's  Bible- 
work),  has  translated  the  poetic  portions  in  Iambic  measure, 
with  occasional  use  of  the  Choriambus.  We  transcribe  two  speci- 
mens from  chap.  vii.  and  chap.  xi. : — 

' '  Better  the  lionored  name  than  precious  oil ; 
Better  the  day  of  death  than  that  of  being  born. 
Better  to  visit  sorrow's  house  than  seek  the  banquet  hall ; 
Since  that  (reveals)  the  end  of  every  man, 
And  he  who  lives  should  lay  it  well  to  heart. 

Better  is  grief  than  mirth  ; 
For  in  the  sadness  of  the  face  the  heart  becometh  fair. 
The  wise  man's  heart  is  in  the  house  of  mourning, 
The  fool's  heart  in  the  house  of  mirth. 
Better  to  hear  the  chiding  of  the  wise 

Than  hear  the  song  of  fools. 
For  like  the  sound  of  thorns  beneath  the  pot, 
So  is  the  railing  laughter  of  the  fool. 

This,  too,  is  vanity. 


"Rejoice,  0  youth,  in  childhood  ;  let  thy  heart 
Still  cheer  thee  in  the  day  when  thou  art  strong. 
Go  on  in  every  way  thy  will  shall  choose. 
And  after  every  form  thine  eyes  behold  ; 

But  know  that  for  all  this  thy  God  will  thee  to  judgment  bring. 

0,  then,  turn  sorrow  from  thy  soul,  keep  evil  from  thy  flesh  ; 

For  childhood  and  the  morn  of  life,  they,  too,  are  vanity. 

Ptemember  thy  Creator,  then,  in  days  when  thou  art  young  ; 

Before  the  evil  days  are  come,  before  the  years  draw  nigh 

When  thou  shalt  saj- — delight  in  them  is  gone." 

FABLE  AND  PARABLE. 
To  didactic  poetry  belong  also  the  fable  and  the  parable. 
They  are  usually  composed  in  narrative  prose,  but  the  matter  is 
all  fiction  and  imagination.  Both  are  allegories  in  the  style  of 
history  ;  both  are  conscious  fictions  for  the  purpose  of  instruc- 
tion, and  differ  from  the  myth,  which  is  the  unconscious  product 
of  the  religious  imagination  and  identifies  fiction  with  fact.  But 
they  differ  in  regard  to  the  reality  of  the  imagery  and  the  nature 


106  THE   POETRY   OF   THE  BIBLE. 

of  the  aim.  The  fable  rests  on  admitted  impossibilities  and 
introduces  irrational  creatures,  animals  or  plants,  to  teach  maxims 
of  secular  prudence  and  a  lower,  selfish  morality;  while  the  par- 
able takes  its  illustrations  from  real  life,  human  or  animal,  with 
its  natural  characteristics,  and  has  a  higher  moral  aim.  "  The 
fable  seizes  on  that  which  man  has  in  common  with  the  creatures 
below  him ;  the  parable  rests  on  the  truth  that  man  is  made  in 
the  image  of  God."  The  former  is  fitted  for  the  instruction  of 
youth,  which  does  not  raise  the  question  of  veracity  and  revels 
in  the  marvellous ;  the  latter  is  suited  for  a  riper  age^  and  is 
much  better  fitted  as  a  medium  of  religious  instruction. 

There  are  no  fables  in  the  New  Testament,  and  only  two  in 
the  Old,  viz.y  the  fable  of  Jotham :  the  trees  choosing  their  king, 
Judges  ix.  8-15,  and  the  fable  of  Jehoash  :  the  cedars  of  Lebanon 
and  the  thistle,  2  Kings  xiv.  9,  and  2  Chr.  xxv.  18.  The  riddle 
(parable)  of  Ezekiel  xxii.  1-10  introduces  two  eagles  as  repre- 
sentatives of  human  characters,  but  without  ascribing  to  them 
human  attributes. 

The  parable  occurs  in  2  Sam.  xii.  1  (the  poor  man's  ewe  lamb), 
Isa.  V.  1  (the  vineyard  yielding  wild  grapes),  also  1  Kings  xx. 
39  ;  xxii.  19.  It  was  cultivated  by  Hillel,  Shammai  and  other 
Jewish  rabbis,  and  appears  frequently  in  the  Gemara  and  Mid- 
rash.     It  is  found  in  its  perfection  in  the  Gospels. 

The  parables  of  our  Lord  illustrate  the  various  aspects  of  the 
kingdom  of  heaven  (as  those  in  the  Synoptical  Gospels),  or  the 
personal  relation  of  Christ  to  His  disciples  (as  the  parable  of 
the  Good  Shepherd,  and  that  of  the  Vine  and  the  Branches,  in 
the  Gospel  of  John).  They  reveal  the  profoundest  ideas  in  the 
simplest  and  most  lucid  language.  But  what  they  reveal  to  the 
susceptible  mind,  they  conceal  to  the  profane,  which  sees  only  the 
outer  shell,  and  not  the  inner  kernel  of  the  truth.  They  are  at 
once  pure  truth  and  pure  poetry.  Every  trait  is  intrinsically 
possible  and  borrowed  from  nature  and  human  life;  and  yet  the 
composition  of  the  whole  is  the  product  of  the  imagination. 
The  art  of  illustrative  teaching  in  parables  never  rose  so  high 
before  or  since,  nor  can  it  ever  rise  higher.^ 

*  Ewald  (p.  54)  says  of  the  parables  of  Christ :  ''  Was  Iticr  arts  dcr  Men- 
schenwelt  crziihlt  ivird,  ist  rollkonwicn  wahr,  (J.  i.  den  mcnsehlichen  ]'crhaltnissc)i 


THE   POETRY   OP^   THE   BIBLE.  107 


III.  PROPHETIC  POETRY. 

This  is  peculiar  to  the  Bible  and  to  the  religion  of  revelation. 
Heathen  nations  had  their  divinations  and  oracles,  but  no  divinely 
inspired  prophecy.  Man  may  have  forebodings  of  the  future, 
and  may  conjecture  what  may  come  to  pass  under  certain  condi- 
tions; but  God  only  knows  the  future,  and  he  to  whom  He 
chooses  to  reveal  it. 

Prophecy  is  closely  allied  to  poetry.  The  prophet  sees  the 
future  as  a  picture  with  the  spiritual  eye  enlightened  by  the 
Divine  mind,  and  describes  it  mostly  in  more  or  less  poetic 
form.  Prophetic  poetry  combines  a  didactic  and  an  epic  ele- 
ment.-^ It  rouses  the  conscience,  enforces  the  law  of  God,  and 
holds  up  the  history  of  the  future,  the  approaching  judgments 
and  mercies  of  God,  for  instruction,  reproof,  comfort  and  en- 
couragement. Prophecy  is  too  elevated  to  descend  to  ordinary 
prose,  and  yet  too  practical  to  bind  itself  to  strict  rules.  Daniel, 
like  St.  John  in  the  Apocalypse,  uses  prose,  but  a  prose  that  has 
all  the  effect  of  poetry.  Jonah  and  Haggai  likewise  wrote  in 
prose,  Malachi  in  a  sort  of  middle  style.  The  other  prophets 
employ  prose  in  the  narrative  and  introductory  sections,  but  a 
rhythmical  flow  of  diction  in  the  prophecies  pro})er,  with  divi- 
sions of  clauses  and  stanzas,  and  rise  often  to  the  highest  majesty 
and  power.  The  sublime  prayer  of  Habakkuk  (ch.  iii.)  is  a 
lyric  poem  and  might  as  well  have  a  place  in  the  Psalter. 

The  earliest  specimens  of  prophetic  poetry  are  the  prediction 

volll-ommen  enfsprecJicnd ,  so  dnss  kciner,  der  es  hort,  an  seinem  Dasein  zurifein 
Jcann,  nnd  ist  dennoch  nur  Bild,  nur  Lehrc,  und  nicht  anders  gemeint.  Ahcr  mit 
der  hochstoi  Wahrhcit  der  SchUderung  dieses  nienschlichen  Lehens  verhindet  sich 
hier  Hire  hochste  Einfalt,  Liehlichkeit  und  VoUendung,  urn  ihr  den  unividersteh- 
lichsten  Zauher  zu  gchen.''^ 

E wald  treats  prophec}''  as  a  part  of  didactic  poetry.  ' '  Ein  reiner  DieMer^ ' ' 
he  says  (p.  51),  " « j/i  tirsjjr'dnglichsten  Shine  dcs  Wortes  ist  der  Prophet  nieht: 
icas  er  ausspricht,  soil  von  vorne  an  bestimmend,  vorschreibend,  belehrend  auf 
Andere  wirken.  Aber  sein  Wort  loill  von  der  Begeisterung  Flugeln  getragen  von 
obcn  herab  trefen,  und  muss  so  von  vorn  an  erhaben  in  gleieher  Ilohe  sieh  bis 
ziim  Ende  Jialfen.  .  .  .  So  drdngt  sieh  denn  dem  Propheten  die  Idngst  gegebene 
Dichtenceise  zinwillkiihrlieh  auf,  cUinlich  hebt  und  senkt  sieh  bei  ihm  der  Strom 
der  Rede,  nur  der  Gesang  fallt  vor  der  ungewohnlichcn  Hohe  und  dem  Ernsie 
seiner  Worte  leicht  von  selbst  iceg.^^ 


108  THE   POETRY   OF   THE   BIBLE. 

of  Noah,  Gen.  ix.  25-27,  the  blessing  of  Jacob,  Gen.  xlix.,  the 
prophecies  of  Balaam,  Numb,  xxiv.,  and  the  farewell  blessing 
of  the  twelve  tribes  by  Moses,  Deut.  xxxiii.  They  are  pro- 
phetical lyrics  or  lyrical  prophecies,  and  hence  may  also  be 
classed  with  lyrical  poetry  like  the  Messianic  Psalms. 

The  golden  age  of  prophetic  poetry  began  eight  centuries 
before  Christ,  and  continued  till  the  return  from  the  exile, 
warning  the  people  of  the  approaching  judgments  of  Jehovah, 
and  comforting  them  in  the  midst  of  their  calamities  with  his 
promise  of  a  brighter  future  when  the  Messiah  shall  come  to 
redeem  His  people  and  to  bless  all  the  nations  of  the  earth. 

The  poetry  of  the  Prophets  varies  according  to  their  temper- 
ament and  subject.  Amos,  a  herdsman  of  Tekoa,  in  the  tribe 
of  Judah,  who  prophesied  in  the  eighth  century  before  Christ, 
abounds  in  illustrations  from  pastoral  and  rustic  life,  and  con- 
tains some  rare  specimens  of  sublime  thought  beautifully  ex- 
pressed. Hosea,  his  contemporary  (between  790  and  725  B.C.), 
is  bold,  vigorous,  terse,  pregnant,  but  abrupt  and  obscure. 
Jeremiah  is  the  melancholy  poet  of  the  downfall  of  the  theoc- 
racy, full  of  tender  pathos,  and  fills  the  heart  with  holy  grief, 
but  also  with  hope  of  a  new  and  better  covenant.  Ezekiel,  a 
younger  contemporary  of  Jeremiah,  is  dark  and  enigmatic,  but 
elevated  and  forcible.  He  presents  a  variety  of  visions,  sym- 
bolical actions,  parables,  proverbs,  allegories,  "  wheels  within 
wheels,  with  living  creatures  welded.^^  He  draws  ilhistrations 
from  architecture,  from  Solomon's  temple,  and  the  winged  and 
human-headed  lions  which  were  dug  up  in  our  age  fro'm  the  dust 
of  long-lost  Nineveh.  Habakkuk  belongs  to  the  later  Baby- 
lonian period.  Ewald  thus  describes  him  in  his  book  on  the 
Hebrew  Prophets:  ^^  Great  as  Habbakkuk  is  in  thought,  he  is 
no  less  so  in  language  and  literary  skill ;  he  is  tlie  last  prophet 
belonging  to  the  age  preceding  the  destruction  of  Jerusalem  who 
is  ma.'-ter  of  a  beautiful  style,  of  forcible  description,  and  an 
artistic  power  that  enlivens  and  orders  everything  with  charming 
effect.  We  are  still  able  to  admire  in  him  the  genuine  type  and 
full  beauty  of  ancient  Hebrew  prophecy  ;  he  is  its  last  pure  light, 
and  although  he  already  reproduces  much  from  older  books,  he 
still  maintains  complete  independence." 


THE   POETRY  OF   THE   BIBLE.  109 

The  greatest  poet  among  the  prophets  is  Isaiah,  who  lived  In 
the  Assyrian  period  (between  760  and  698).  He  at  the  same 
time  comes  nearest  to  the  gospel,  and  is  called  the  Evangelist 
of  the  Old  Covenant.  He  gathers  up  all  past  prophecies  and 
sends  them  enriched  into  the  future.  He  excels  in  the  grandeur 
and  variety  of  images  and  in  sudden  contrasts.  Ewald  admira- 
bly describes  him.  ''  In  Isaiah/^  he  says,  "  we  see  the  prophetic 
authorship  reaching  its  culminating  point.  Everything  con- 
spired to  raise  him  to  an  elevation  to  which  no  prophet,  either 
before  or  after,  could  as  writer  attain.  Among  the  other 
prophets  each  of  the  more  important  ones  is  distinguished  by 
some  one  particular  excellence  and  some  one  peculiar  talent;  in 
Isaiah  all  kinds  of  talent  and  all  beauties  of  prophetic  discourse 
meet  together,  so  as  mutually  to  temper  and  qualify  each  other; 
it  is  not  so  much  any  single  feature  that  distinguishes  him,  as  the 
symmetry  and  perfection  as  a  whole.  ...  In  the  sentiment  he 
ex[)resses,  in  the  topics  of  his  discourses,  and  in  the  manner, 
Isaiah  uniformly  reveals  himself  as  the  kingly  prophet.'^ 

A  few  selections  must  suffice,  one  from  the  first  and  one  from 
the  second  Part.  We  have  nothing  to  do  here  with  tlie  critical 
question  of  the  authorship  of  the  collection  which  bears  his  name 
and  which  refers  partly  to  the  Assyrian,  partly  to  the  Babylo- 
nian period,  but  which  nevertheless  has  a  unity  of  spirit  with 
minor  differences  of  style. 

The  following  is  a  beautiful  description  of  the  happy  Mes- 
sianic age  (ch.  XXXV.) : — 

"  The  wilderness  and  the  solitaiy  place  shall  be  glad  ; 

And  the  desert  shall  rejoice,  and  blossom  as  a  rose. 
It  shall  blossom  abundantly, 

And  rejoice  even  with  jo}'  and  singing. 
The  glory  of  Lebanon  shall  be  given  unto  it, 

The  excellency  of  Carmel  and  Sharon  : 
They  shall  see  the  glory  of  Jehovah, 

The  excellency  of  our  God. 

^  And  vet  he  was  numbered  among  the  prose  writers  till  the  time  of 
Lowth,  It  is  strange  that  even  so  able  a  scholar  as  Dr.  Jos.  Addison  Alex- 
ander, in  his  commentary  on  Isaiah,  sliould  protest  (from  early  habit)  against 
what  he  calls  "the  fantastic  and  injurious  mode  of  printing  most  transla- 
tions of  Isiiiah,  since  the  days  of  Lowth,  in  lines  analogous  to  those  of 
classical  and  modern  verse." 


110  THE   POETRY   OF   THE   BIBLE. 

Strengthen  ye  the  weak  hands, 

And  confirm  the  feeble  knees. 
Sa}^  to  them  that  are  of  a  fearful  heart, 

Be  strong,  fear  not ; 
Behold,  your  Grod  will  come  with  vengeance, 

With  the  recompense  of  God  ; 
He  will  come  and  save  you. 

Then  the  eyes  of  the  blind  shall  be  opened, 
And  the  ears  of  the  deaf  shall  be  unstopped. 

Then  shall  the  lame  man  leap  as  an  hart, 
And  the  tongue  of  the  dumb  shall  sing  ; 

For  in  the  wilderness  shall  waters  break  out, 
And  streams  in  the  desert. 

And  the  glowing  sand  shall  become  a  pool, 

And  the  thirsty  ground  springs  of  water  ; 
In  the  habitation  of  jackals,  where  they  lay, 

ShaU  be  grass  with  reeds  and  rushes. 
And  an  liighway  shall  be  there,  and  a  way, 

And  it  shall  be  called  the  way  of  holiness. 

The  unclean  shall  not  pass  over  it ; 

For  it  shall  be  for  those  : 
The  wayfaring  men,  yea  fools,  shall  not  err  therein. 

No  lion  shall  be  there. 
Nor  shall  any  ravenous  beast  go  up  thereon. 

They  shall  not  be  found  there. 

But  the  redeemed  shall  walk  there  ; 

And  the  ransomed  of  the  Lord  shall  return. 
And  come  with  singing  unto  Zion  ; 

And  everlasting  joy  shall  be  upon  their  heads  : 
They  shall  obtain  gladness  and  joy, 

And  sorrow  and  sighing  shall  flee  away. 

In  the  second  part,  from  ch.  xl.  to  the  close,  called  Deutero- 
Isaiah,  the  })rophet — whether  it  be  Isaiah,  or  ^'  the  great  Un- 
known/' at  the  close  of  the  exile — describes  the  approach  of  the 
Messianic  salvation,  and  draws,  lineament  for  lineament,  the  phy- 
siognomy of  the  suffering  and  triumphant  Saviour,  for  the  comfort 
of  all  ages.  The  fifty-second  and  fifty-third  chapters  are  the  holy 
of  holies  of  Hebrew  prophecy,  the  gospel  of  the  Old  Testament. 


THE   POETRY   OF   THE   BIBLE.  HI 

'How  beautiful  upon  the  mountains  are  the  feet  of  liiui 

That  bi-ingeth  good  tidings, 
That  pubhsheth  peace, 

That  bringeth  good  tidings  of  good. 
That    abhsheth  salvation  ; 

Thac  saith  unto  Zion,  Thy  God  reigneth  ! 
The  voice  of  thy  watchman  !  they  lift  up  the  voice, 

Together  do  they  sing  ; 
For  they  shall  see,  eye  to  eye, 

AVhen  Jehovah  returneth  to  Zion. 

Break  forth  into  joy, 

Sing  together,  ye  waste  places  of  Jeiiisalem  ; 
For  Jehovah  hath  comforted  Flis  people. 

He  hath  redeemed  Jemsalem. 
Jehovah  hath  made  bare  His  holy  arm 

In  the  eyes  of  all  the  nations  ; 
And  all  the  ends  of  the  earth 

Shall  see  the  salvation  of  our  God. 


Behold,  3Iy  SeiTant  shall  prosper. 

He  shall  be  exalted  and  lifted  up  and  be  very  high. 
Like  as  many  were  astonished  at  thee 

(His  visage  was  so  marred,  more  than  an}^  man, 
And  His  form  more  than  the  sons  of  men), 

So  shall  He  sprinkle  many  nations  ; 
Kings  shall  shut  their  mouths  at  Him  ; 

For  that  which  had  not  been  told  them  they  shall  see  ; 
And  that  which  they  had  not  heard 

They  shall  attentively  consider. 

Who  hath  believed  our  report  ? 

And  to  whom  is  the  arm  of  the  Lord  revealed  ? 
For  He  grew  up  before  Him  as  a  tender  plant. 

And  as  a  root  out  of  a  dry  ground  : 
He  hath  no  form  nor  comeliness ;  and  when  we  see  Him, 

There  is  no  beauty  that  we  should  desire  Him. 
He  was  despised,  and  rejected  by  men ; 

A  Man  of  sorrows,  and  acciuainted  with  grief : 
And  as  one  from  whom  men  are  hiding  their  face, 

He  was  despised,  and  we  esteemed  Him  not. 

Verily  He  hath  borne  our  griefs, 

And  carried  our  sorrows  : 
Yet  we  did  esteem  Him  stricken. 

Smitten  of  God  and  afflicted. 


112  THE   POETRY   OF   THE   BIBLE. 

But  He  was  pierced  for  our  transgressions, 

He  was  bruised  for  our  iniquities  : 
The  chastisement  of  our  peace  was  upon  Him  ; 

And  with  His  stripes  we  are  healed. 
All  we  like  sheep  went  astray  ; 

We  turned  every  one  to  his  own  way  ; 
And  Jehovah  laid  on  Him  the  iniquity  of  us  all. 

He  was  oppressed,  yet  He  humbled  himself. 

And  opened  not  His  mouth  : 
As  a  Lamb  that  is  brought  to  the  slaughter, 

And  as  a  sheep  that  before  her  shearers  is  dumb  ; 
Yea,  He  opened  not  His  mouth. 

He  was  taken  away  by  oppression  and  judgment ; 
And  His  hfe  who  shall  recount  ? 

For  He  was  cut  off  from  the  land  of  the  living  : 

For  the  transgression  of  my  people  was  He  stricken. 

And  they  made  His  grave  with  the  wicked, 

And  with  the  rich  in  His  death  ; 
Although  He  had  done  no  violence. 

Neither  was  any  deceit  in  His  mouth  : 
Yet  it  pleased  Jehovah  to  bruise  Him  ; 

He  hath  put  Him  to  grief 

When  He  shall  offer  Himself  a  sacrifice  for  sin. 
He  will  see  His  seed,  He  will  prolong  His  days. 

And  the  pleasure  of  Jehovah  will  prosper  in  His  hands. 
He  will  see  of  the  travail  of  His  soul,  and  will  be  satisfied  : 

By  His  knowledge  will  My  righteous  Servant  justify  many  ; 
For  He  will  bear  their  iniquities. 

Therefore  I  shall  give  Him  a  portion  among  the  great. 
And  He  will  divide  the  spoil  with  the  strong  : 

Because  He  hath  poured  out  His  soul  unto  death. 
And  was  numbered  with  the  transgressors  ; 

And  He  bare  the  sin  of  many. 

And  made  intercession  for  the  transgressors. ' ' 


IV.     DRAMATIC  POETRY. 

If  we  start  with  the  Greek  conception  of  the  drama,  there  is 
none  in  the  Bible.  But  if  we  take  the  word  in  a  wider  sense, 
and  apply  it  to  lengthy  poetic  compositions,  unfolding  an  action 


THE   rOETRY   OF   THE   BIBLE.  113 

and  introducing  a  number  of  speakers  and  actors,  we  have  two 
dramas  in  the  Old  Testament.  The  Song  of  Solomon  is  a  lyric 
drama  or  melo-drama  ;  the  Book  of  Job  is  a  didactic  drama. 

The  best  judges  of  different  ages  and  churches,  as  Gregory  of 
Nazlanzen,  Bossuet,  Lowth,  Ewald,  Renan,  Stanley,  recognize 
the  dramatic  element  in  tliese  two  poems,  and  some  have  even 
gone  so  far  as  to  suppose  that  both,  or  at  least  the  Canticles, 
were  really  intended  for  the  stage/  But  there  is  not  the  slight- 
est trace  of  a  theatre  in  the  history  of  Israel  before  the  age  of 
Herod,  who  introduced  foreign  customs ;  as  there  is  none  at  the 
present  day  in  the  Holy  Laud,  and  scarcely  among  the  Moham- 
medan Arabs,  unless  we  regard  the  single  reciters  of  romances 
(always  men  or  boys)  with  their  changing  voice  and  gestures  as 
dramatic  actors.  The  ruins  of  large  theatres  east  of  the  Jordan 
are  of  post-Christian  date  and  were  erected  by  the  Romans. 
The  modern  attempts  to  introduce  theatres  in  Beirut  and  Cairo 
have  signally  failed,  or  are  patronized  almost  exclusively  by 
foreigners. 

THE  SONG  OF  SONGS. 

The  Canticles,  or  Song  of  Songs,  presents  the  Hebrew  ideal 
of  pure  bridal  and  conjugal  love  in  a  series  of  monologues  and 
dialogues  by  different  persons  :  a  lover,  king  Solomon  (Shelomoh, 
the  Peaceful),  a  maiden  named  Shulamith,  and  a  chorus  of 
virgins,  daughters  of  Jerusalem.  There  are  no  breaks  or  titles  to 
indicate  the  change  of  scene  or  speakers,  and  they  can  be  recog- 
nized only  by  the  sense  and  the  change  of  gender  and  number 
in  the  personal  pronoun.  The  English  version  is  much  obscured 
by  a  neglect  of  the  distinction  of  feminine  and  masculine  pro- 

^  Ewald  {Die  Didder  clcs  A.  B.,  I.  72  sqq.)  asserts  very  positively,  but 
without  proof,  that  dramas  were  enacted  on  the  great  festivals,  aud  at  the 
courts  of  David  aud  Soloniou.  He  calls  the  Cauticles  "  the  purest  model  of 
a  comedy  {LustspieJ)  " ;  Job,  "  a  genuine  tragedy  {Trauerspicl).''^  He  admits, 
however,  that  iu  no  case  could  God  (Avho  is  one  of  the  actors  iu  Job)  have 
beeu  introduced  on  a  Jewish  stage,  like  the  gods  in  the  Greek  dramas.  Reuau 
(Ze  Cantiquc  dcs  Caniiques)  denies  the  existence  of  public  theatres  among  the 
Hebrews,  owing  to  the  abseuceof  a  complicated  mythology  which  stimulated 
the  development  of  the  drama  among  the  Hindoos  and  Greeks,  but  maintains 
that  the  Song  of  Songs,  being  a  dramatic  poem,  must  have  beeu  represented 
iu  private  families  at  marriage  feasts. 
8 


114  THE   POETRY   OF   THE   BIBLE. 

nouns  in  the  Hebrew.     These  defects  have  been  mended  in  the 
Revised  Version. 

The  poem  is  full  of  the  fragrance  of  spring,  the  beauty  of 
flowers,  and  the  loveliness  of  love.  How  sweet  and  charming 
is  the  lover's  description  of  spring,  ch.  ii.  10-14: 

"  Else  up,  my  ove,  my  fair  one,  and  come  away  ! 

For,  lo,  the  winter  is  past. 
The  rain  is  over  and  gone  ; 

The  flowers  appear  on  the  earth  ; 
The  time  for  the  singing  of  birds  is  come, 

And  the  voice  of  the  turtle  is  heard  in  our  land. 
The  fig-tree  ripeneth  her  green  figs, 

And  the  vines  are  in  blossom. 

They  give  forth  their  fragrance. 

Arise,  my  love,  my  fair  one,  and  come  away  ! 

My  dove,  in  the  clefts  of  the  rock. 
In  the  recess  of  the  cliff's, 

Let  me  see  thy  countenance. 
Let  me  hear  thy  voice  ; 

For  sweet  is  thy  voice. 

And  thy  countenance  is  comely."^ 

The  Song  of  Solomon  canonizes  the  love  of  nature,  and  the 
love  of  sex,  as  the  Book  of  Esther  canonizes  patriotism  or  the 
love  of  country.  It  gives  a  place  in  the  Book  of  inspiration  to 
the  noblest  and  strongest  passion  which  the  Creator  has  planted 
in  man,  before  the  fall,  and  which  reflects  His  own  infinite  love 
to  His  creatures,  and  the  love  of  Christ  to  His  Church.  Proeul 
■abeste  pi^ofani!  The  very  depth  of  perversion  to  which  the 
passion  of  love  can  be  degraded,  only  reveals  the  height  of  its 
origin  and  destiny.  Love  is  divine.  Love  in  its  primal  purity 
is  a  ^^  blaze^' or 'Mightning  flash  from  Jehovah''  (Shalhebeth- 
Jah,  ch.  viii.  6),  and  stronger  than  death.     As  it  proceeds  from 

^  Logau  calls  tlie  month  of  May  "a  kiss  which  heaven  gives  to  earth," 

"  Dieser  Clonal  ist  ein  Kuss, 

Den  dcr  llimmcl  gicht  tier  Erdc, 
Dass  siejetzo  seine  Brauf, 
K'dnflig  cine  Mutter  iverde.'' 


THE   POETRY   OF   THE   BIBLE.  115 

God  SO  it  retiirDS  to  Him  ;  for  '^  God  is  love;  and  he  that  dwell- 
eth  ill  love,  dwelleth  in  God,  and  God  in  him  ^'  (1  John  iv.  16). 
Tersteegen,  one  of  the  purest  and  deepest  German  hymnists,  in 
liis  sweet  hymn  :  " /c/i  bete  an  die  Macht  der  Licbe/^  traces  all 
true  earthly  love  and  friendship  to  Christ  as  the  fountain-head, 
in  these  beautiful  lines  : — 

"  Ulir   sei  drm  liolien  Je-visnamen, 
In  dem  der  Lfche  Quell  entspringt^ 
Yon  dem  Ju'er  alJe  Bachlein  kamen^ 

Aus  dem  der  SeV gen  Schaar  dort  trinli.^^ 

As  to  the  artistic  arrans^ement  or  the  number  of  acts  and 
cantos  in  each  act  of  this  melodrama  of  Love  there  is  consider- 
able difference  among  commentators.  Some  divide  it  into  five 
acts,  according  to  the  usual  arrangement  of  dramas  (Ewald, 
Bottcher,  Zockler,  Moody,  Stuart,  Davidson,  Ginsburg),  some 
into  six  (Delitzsch,  Hahn),  some  into  seven,  corresponding  to 
the  seven  days  of  the  Jewish  marriage  festival  for  which  the 
successive  portions  of  the  poem  are  supposed  to  have  been 
intended  to  be  sung  (Bossuet,  Percy,  Williams).  Ewald  sub- 
divides the  five  acts  into  thirteen,  Kenan  into  sixteen,  others 
into  more  or  less  cantos.  On  the  other  hand,  Thrupp  and  Green 
give  up  the  idea  of  a  formal  artistic  construction,  such  as  the 
Indo-European  conception  of  a  drama  would  require,  and  sub- 
stitute for  it  a  looser  method  of  arrano-ement  or  afro;re2;ation,  with 
abrupt  transitions  and  sudden  changes  of  scene.  All  the  parts 
are  variations  of  the  same  theme,  of  pure  bridal  love  as  the 
image  of  a  divine  and  spiritual  love.  Those  who  regard  the 
poem  as  an  idyl  rather  than  a  drama  (Sir  William  Jones,  Good, 
Fry,  xsoyes,  Herbst,  Heiligstedt)  divide  it  into  a  series  of  songs, 
but  likewise  differ  as  to  the  number  and  the  pauses. 

This  is  not  the  place  to  enter  into  tlie  wilderness  of  interpre- 
tations of  this  wonderful  and  much-abused  poem,  except  to  pro- 
test against  those  profane  rationalistic  expositions  which  can  find 
in  it  no  more  than  a  sensuous,  erotic  meaning,  and  make  its 
position  in  the  sacred  canon  inexplicable,  as  well  as  against  those 
arbitrary  allegorical  impositions  which,  in  violation  of  all  the 
laws  of  hermeneutics,  force  upon  the  words  a  meaning  which 


116  THE   POETRY   OF   THE   BIBLE. 

tlie  author  never  dreamed  of.  Dr.  Angus  makes  some  judi- 
cious remarks  on  the  subject.-^  "  Much  of  the  language  of  this 
poem/'  he  says,  "  has  been  misunderstood  by  early  expositors. 
Some  have  erred  by  adopting  a  fanciful  method  of  explanation, 
and  attempting  to  give  a  mystical  meaning  to  every  minute  cir- 
cumstance of  the  allegory.  In  all  figurative  representations 
there  is  always  much  that  is  mere  costume.  It  is  the  general 
truth  only  that  is  to  be  examined  and  explained.  Others,  not 
understanding  the  spirit  and  luxuriancy  of  eastern  poetry,  have 
considered  particular  passages  as  defective  in  delicacy,  an  impres- 
sion which  the  English  version  has  needlessly  confirmed,  and  so 
have  objected  to  the  whole,  though  the  objection  does  not  apply 
with  greater  force  to  this  book  than  to  Hesiod  or  Homer,  or  even 
to  some  of  the  purest  of  our  own  authors.  If  it  be  remembered, 
that  the  figure  employed  in  this  allegory  is  one  of  the  most  fre- 
quent in  Scripture,  that  in  extant  oriental  poems  it  is  constantly 
employed  to  express  religious  feeling,  that  many  expressions 
which  are  applied  in  our  translation  to  the  person,  belong  prop- 
erly to  the  dress,  that  every  generation  has  its  own  notions  of 
delicacy  (the  most  delicate  in  this  sense  being  by  no  means  the 
most  virtuous),  that  nothing  is  described  but  chaste  affection, 
that  Shulamith  speaks  and  is  spoken  of  collectively,  and  that  it 
is  the  general  truth  only  which  is  to  be  allegorized,  the  whole 
will  appear  to  be  no  unfit  representation  of  the  union  between 
Christ  and  true  believers  in  every  age.  Pro})erly  understood,  this 
portion  of  Scripture  will  minister  to  our  holiness.  It  may  be 
added,  however,  that  it  was  the  practice  of  the  Jews  to  withhold 
the  book  from  their  children  till  their  judgments  w^ere  matured.'' 

THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 

The  Book  of  Job  is  a  didactic  drama,  with  an  ej)ic  introduc- 
tion and  close.  The  prologue  (chs.  i.  and  ii.)  and  the  epilogue 
((,'!].  xlii.  7-17)  are  written  in  plain  prose,  the  body  of  the  poem 
in  poetry.  It  has  been  called  the  Hebrew  tragedy,  but  it  differs 
from  other  tragedies  by  its  happy  termination.  We  better  call 
it  a  dramatic  theodicy.     It  wrestles  with  the  perj)lexing  problem 

'  Bible  Handbook,  Lond.  Ed.,  p.  419. 


THE   rOETRY   OF   THE   BIBLE.  117 

of  ages,  viz.,  the  true  meaning  and  object  of  evil  and  suffering 
in  the  world  under  the  government  of  a  holy,  wise  and  merciful 
God.  The  dramatic  form  shows  itself  in  the  symmetrical  ar- 
rangement, the  introduction  of  several  speakers,  the  action,  or 
rather  the  suffering  of  the  hero,  the  growing  passion  and  con- 
flict, the  secret  crime  supposed  to  underlie  his  misfortune,  and 
the  awful  mystery  in  the  background.  But  there  is  little  external 
action  {dodfia)  in  it,  and  this  is  almost  confined  to  the  prologue 
and  epilogue.  Instead  of  it  we  have  here  an  intellectual  battle 
of  the  deepest  moral  import,  mind  grappling  with  mind  on  the 
most  serious  questions  which  can  challenge  our  attention.  The 
outward  drapery  only  is  dramatic,  the  soul  of  the  poem  is  didac- 
tic. It  is  inspired  by  the  Hebrew  idea  of  Divine  Providence, 
which  differs  from  the  Greek  notion  of  blind  Fate,  as  the  light 
of  day  differs  from  midnight,  or  as  a  loving  father  differs  from 
a  heartless  tyrant.  It  is  intended  for  the  study,  not  for  the 
stage. -^ 

The  book  opens,  like  a  Greek  drama,  with  a  prologue,  which 
introduces  the  reader  into  the  situation,  and  makes  him  ac- 
quainted with  the  character,  the  prosperous  condition,  the  ter- 
rible misfortunes,  and  the  exemplary  patience  of  the  hero. 
Even  God,  and  His  great  antagonist,  Satan,  who  appears,  how- 
ever, in  heaven  as  a  servant  of  God,  are  drawn  into  the  scenery, 
and  a  previous  arrangement  in  the  Divine  council  precedes  and 
determines  the  subsequent  transaction.  History  on  earth  is  thus 
viewed  as  an  execution  of  the  decrees  of  heaven,  and  as  con- 
trolled throughout  by  supernatural  forces.  But  we  have  here 
the  unsearchable  wisdom  of  the  Almighty  Maker  and  Ruler  of 
men,   not  the  dark  impersonal   Fate  of   the   heathen  tragedy. 

^  W.  A.  Wright  (in  W.  Smith's  Diciionnnj  of  the  Bible,  III.,  2553)  says  of 
tlie  Book  of  Job  :  "  Inasmuch  as  it  represents  an  action  and  a  progress,  it  is 
a  drama  as  truly  and  reall}^  as  any  poem  can  be  which  develops  the  working 
of  passion  and  the  alternations  of  faith,  hope,  distrust,  triumphant  couli- 
dence  and  black  despair,  in  the  struggle  which  it  depicts  the  human  mind  as 
engaged  in,  while  attempting  to  solve  one  of  the  most  intricate  problems  it 
can  be  called  upon  to  regard.  It  is  a  drama  as  life  is  a  drama,  the  most  pow- 
erful of  all  tragedies  ;  but  that  it  is  a  dramatic  poem  intended  to  be  repre- 
sented upon  the  stage,  or  Ciipable  of  being  so  represented,  may  be  confidently 
denied." 


118  THE   POETRY   OF   THE   BIBLE. 

This  grand   feature   of   Job  lias  been   admirably  imitated  by 
Goethe  in  the  prologue  of  Faust. 

The  action  itself  commences  after  seven  days  and  seven  nights 
of  eloquent  silence.  The  grief  over  the  misfortunes  which,  like 
a  swift  succession  of  cyclones,  had  suddenly  hurled  the  patriar- 
chal prince  from  the  summit  of  prosperity  to  the  lowest  depths 
of  misery,  culminating  in  the  most  loathsome  disease,  and  in- 
tensified by  the  heartless  sneers  of  his  wife,  at  last  bursts 
forth  in  a  passionate  monologue  of  Job,  cursing  the  day  of 
his  birth  (ch.  iii.). 

' '  Let  the  day  perish  wherein  I  was  born, 
And  the  night  which  said  : 
There  is  a  man-child  conceived. 


Why  did  I  not  die  in  the  womb? 
Why  did  I  not  give  up  the  ghost, 
When  I  came  out  of  the  belly  ? 


As  a  hidden  untimely  birth  ; 
As  infants  who  never  saw  light. 

There  the  wicked  cease  from  troubling  ; 
And  there  the  weary  are  at  rest. ' ' 

Then  follows  the  metaphysical  conflict  with  his  friends, 
Eliphaz,  Bildad  and  Zophar,  who  now  turn  to  enemies,  and 
"  miserable  comforters,"  '^  forgers  of  lies,  and  botchers  of  vani- 
ties." The  debate  has  three  acts,  with  an  increasing  entangle- 
ment, and  every  act  consists  of  three  assaults  of  the  false  friends, 
and  as  many  defences  of  Job  (with  the  exception  that,  in  the 
third  and  last  battle,  Zophar  retires  and  Job  alone  speaks).^ 
The  poem  reaches  its  height  in  Job's  triumphant  assertion  of 
faith  in  his  Redeemer  (ch.  xix.  23-27),  by  which  ^'the  patriarch 
of  Uz  rises  to  a  level  with  the  patriarch  of  Ur  as  a  pattern  of 
faith." 

^  The  significance  of  tlie  ruling  number  three  reminds  one  of  the  trilogies 
in  Dante's  JJicina  Commcdia. 


THE   POETEY   OF   THE   BIBLE.  119 

"Oil,  tliat  my  words  were  now  written  ! 

Oh,  that  they  were  inscribed  in  a  book  ! 
That  with  an  iron  pen  and  lead 

They  were  graven  in  the  rock  forever  ! 
For  I  know  that  my  Kedeemer  hveth, 

And  that  He  shall  stand  up  at  the  last  upon  the  earth  : 
And  after  my  skin  hath  been  thus  destroyed, 

Yet  without  my  flesh  ^  shall  I  see  God  ; 
Whom  I  shall  see  for  myself 

And  mine  eyes  shall  behold,  and  not  another. ' ' 

After  a  closing  monologue  of  Job,  expressing  fully  his  feel- 
ings and  thoughts  in  view  of  the  past  controversy,  the  youthful 
Elihu,  who  had  silently  listened,  comes  forward,  and  in  three 
speeches  administered  deserved  rebuke  to  both  parties,  with  as 
little  mercy  for  Job  as  for  his  friends,  but  with  a  better  phi- 
losophy of  suffering,  whose  object  he  represents  to  be  correction 
and  reformation,  the  reproof  of  arrogance  and  the  exercise  of 
humility  and  faith.  He  begins  the  disentanglement  of  the 
problem  and  makes  the  transition  to  the  final  decision. 

At  last  God  Himself,  to  whom  Job  had  appealed,  appears  as 
the  Judge  of  the  contest,  and  humbles  him  by  unfolding  before 
his  eyes  a  magnificent  panorama  of  creation  and  showing  him  the 
boundaries  of  his  knowledge.  He  points  him  to  the  mysteries 
of  the  stars  in  heaven,  as  '^  the  cluster  of  the  Pleiades,^'  and 
''the  bands  of  Orion,"  and  in  the  animal  world  on  earth,  as  the 
lion,  the  wild  ox,  the  behemoth  (hippopotamus),  "  who  eateth 
grass  as  an  ox,  who  moveth  his  tail  like  a  cedar,"  the  leviathan 
(the  crocodile),  ''  in  whose  neck  abideth  strength,  and  terror 
danceth  before  him,"  and  of  the  war-horse  (xxxix.  21-25) : — 

' '  He  paweth  in  the  valley, 

And  rejoiceth  in  his  strength  : 

He  goeth  forth  to  meet  the  armed  men. 

^  According  to  the  Hebrew  text  (mibcsari),  i.  c,  with  my  naked  spirit  or 
by  direct  spiritual  intuition.  The  passage  teaches  the  immortality  of  the 
soul,  but  not  the  resurrection  of  tlie  body  (^vhicll  comes  out  in  the  last  books 
of  the  Old  Testament).  The  A.  Y.  and  Luther  wrongly  translate  "m  my 
flesh,"  "?;i  meinem  Fleische,^^  following  the  text  of  the  Yulgate  :  ''  ct  nirsiim 
circumdahor  jicUc  viea,  ct  in  came  mca  videho  Dcum  mcum.''''  The  R.  V.  reads 
in  the  text  '^from  my  flesh,"  and  in  the  margin  "'  icifhout  my  liesh." 


120  THE   POETRY   OF   THE   BIBLE. 

He  mocketh  at  fear,  and  is  not  dismayed  : 

Neither  turneth  he  back  from  the  sword. 
The  quiver  rattleth  against  him, 

The  flashing  spear  and  the  javehn. 
He  swalloweth  the  ground  with  fierceness  and  rage  ; 

Neither  beheveth  he  that  it  is  the  voice  of  the  trumpet. 
As  oft  as  the  trumpet  soundeth  he  saith.  Aha  ! 

And  he  smelleth  the  battle  afar  off, 

The  thunder  of  the  captains  and  the  shouting. ' ' 

Job  is  overwhelmed  with  a  sense  of  the  infinite  power  and 
wisdom  of  the  Almighty,  and  of  his  own  impotence  and  igno- 
rance, and  penitently  confesses  his  sin  and  folly  (xlii.  2-6) : — 

"I  know  that  Thou  canst  do  all  things. 

And  that  no  purpose  of  thine  can  be  restrained. 
Who  is  this  that  hidetli  counsel  without  knowledge  ? 

I  have  then  uttered  what  I  understood  not, 

Things  too  wonderful  for  me,  which  I  knew  not. 
But  hear  me  now,  and  let  me  speak  ; 

Thee  will  I  ask,  and  do  Thou  teach  me. 
I  had  heard  of  Thee  by  the  hearing  of  the  ear  ; 

But  now  mine  eyes  behold  Thee. 
Therefore  I  abhor  it'  (I  recant), 

And  repent  in  dust  and  ashes. ' ' 

This  repentance  and  humble  submission  is  the  moral  solution 
of  the  mighty  problem,  if  solution  it  can  be  called. 

A  brief  epilogue  relates  the  temporal  or  historical  solution, 
the  restoration  and  increased  prosperity  of  Job  after  this  severest 
trial  of  his  faith. 

To  the  external  order  corresponds  the  internal  dialectic  devel- 
opment in  the  warlike  motion  of  conflicting  sentiments  and 
growing  passions.  The  first  act  of  the  debate  shows  yet  a  toler- 
able amount  of  friendly  feeling  on  both  sides.  In  the  second 
the  passion  is  much  increased,  and  the  charges  of  the  opponents 
against  Job  are  made  severer.     In  the  last  debate  Eliphaz,  the 

^  The  Hebrew  verb  bas  no  pronominal  object  ;  tliis  is  eitber  tbe  person  of 
Job  (Sept.  tfiavTov  ;  Vulg.  me ;  A.  and  E.  V.  myself ;  Lntber,  mieh),  or  bis 
argument,  bis  foolisb  wisdom  (Aben  Ezra  :  quiequld  antea  in  te  sum  temerc 
lotnitns  et  impcrite).  lAvabl  translates  indefinitely  :  '^  Drumundernife  ieh  und 
uhe  Jieuc.^^     Similarly  Ziickler  :  '•'■  Darum  icidcrrufe  ieh  und  ihite  Basse.''' 


THE   POETRY   OF   THE   BIBLE.  121 

leader  of  the  rest,  proceeds  to  the  open  accusation  of  heavy 
crimes  against  the  sufferer,  with  an  admonition  to  repent  and 
turn  to  God.  Job,  after  repeated  declarations  of  his  innocence 
and  vain  attempts  at  convincing  his  opponents,  appeals  at  last 
to  God  as  his  Judge.  God  appears,  convinces  him  of  his  igno- 
rance, and  brings  him  to  complete  submission. 

This  is  as  far  as  the  Hebrew  religion  could  go.  In  the 
Christian  dispensation  we  know  God  not  only  as  a  God  of  power 
and  wisdom,  whose  paths  are  past  finding  out,  but  also  as  a  God 
of  love  and  mercy,  who  maketh  all  things  to  work  together  for 
good  to  those  that  love  him.  Yet  there  are  many  dark  problems 
of  Providence  which  we  cannot  understand  until  we  shall  see 
face  to  face  and  know  even  as  we  are  known. 

The  Book  of  Job,  considering  it  as  a  mere  poem,  stands  on  a 
par  with  the  Iliad,  the  ^Eneid,  the  Divina  Commedia,  Macbeth, 
Hamlet,  and  Faust,  and  considering  its  antiquity  and  moral 
bearing,  it  is  superior  to  all.  The  dark  mystery  of  suffering 
has  never  b^een  more  profoundly  debated,  and  never  been 
brought  nearer  to  solution,  except  by  the  teaching  and  example 
of  Christ  and  the  sacrifice  on  the  Cross. 

The  poem  is  also  remarkable  for  its  universal  import.  Whether 
written  in  the  patriarchal,  or  Mosaic,  or  Solomonic,  or  a  still  later 
age,  Job  is  represented  as  a  man  who  lived  before  or  independent 
of  the  Mosaic  economy,  and  outside,  yet  near  the  Holy  Land  ; 
ignorant  of  the  written  law  and  the  temple,  and  yet  a  worshiper 
of  Jehovah;  a  mysterious  stranger  of  the  type  of  Melchisedek, 
"  without  father,  without  mother,  without  genealogy,"  yet  a  true 
prophet  and  priest  of  the  Most  High,  and  a  comforter  of  the 
children  of  affliction  in  all  aires. 


THE  FORM  OF  BIBLE  POETRY.     POETIC  DICTION. 

We  must  now  consider  the  artistic  form  of  the  poetry  of  the 
Bible,  and  the  questions  of  versification,  metre  and  rhyme. 

The  language  of  Hebrew,  as  well  as  of  all  other  poetry,  is  in 
one  respect  more  free,  in  other  respects  more  bound,  than  the 
language  of  prose.     It  is  the  language  of  imagination  and  feel- 


122  THE   POETRY  OF   THE   BIBLE. 

ing,  as  distinct  from  the  language  of  sober  reflection  and  judg- 
ment. It  is  controlled  by  the  idea  of  beauty  and  harmony.  It 
is  the  speech  of  the  Sabbath-day.  It  soars  above  what  is  ordi- 
nary and  common.  It  is  vivid,  copious,  elevated,  sonorous, 
striking,  impressive.  Hence  the  poet  has  more  license  than 
the  prose-writer;  while,  on  the  other  hand,  he  submits  to  cer- 
tain restraints  of  versification  to  secure  greater  aesthetic  effect. 
He  is  permitted  to  use  words  wdiich  are  uncommon  or  obsolete, 
but  which,  for  this  very  reason,  strike  the  attention  and  excite 
the  emotion.  He  may  also  use  ordinary  words  in  an  extraordi- 
nary sense. 

The  licenses  of  the  Hebrew  poets  are  found  in  the  following 
particulars : — 

1.  Archaic  forms  and  peculiar  words,  some  of  Aramaic  or 
even  a  prior  Shemitic  dialect :  Eloah  for  Elohim  (God),  enosh 
for  adam  (man),  orach  for  derech  (path),  havah  for  haiah  (to  be), 
millah  for  dabai-  (word),  i^aal  for  asah  (to  do),  hatal  for  razah  (to 
kill).  Sometimes  they  are  accumulated  for  poetic  effect.-^  The 
modern  knowledge  of  Assyrian  and  Babylonian  literature  sheds 
light  upon  these  poetic  archaisms. 

2.  Common  words  in  an  uncommon  sense :  Joseph  for  the 
nation  of  Israel ;  adjectives  for  substantive  objects,  as  the  hot  for 
the  sun,  the  ivhite  for  the  moon  (Cant.  vi.  10),  the  strong  for  a 
bull  (Ps.  1.  13),  the  flowing  for  stream  (Isa.  xliv.  3). 

3.  Peculiar  grammatical  forms,  or  additional  syllables,  which 
give  tlie  word  more  sound  and  harmony,  or  an  air  of  antiquity  ; 
as  the  paragogic  ah  (H  ^)  affixed  to  nouns  in  the  absolute  state, 
0  (V),  and  i  (**-)  affixed  to  nouns  in  the  construct  state;  the 
feminine  termination  ath,  atha(for  the  ordinary  ah) ;  the  plural 
ending  in  and  ai  (for  im) ;  the  verbal  suffixes  mo,  amo  and  emo  ; 
the  pronominal  suffixes  to  nouns  and  prepositions — amo  (for  am), 
and  ehu  (for  an) ;  also  lengthened  vowel  forms  of  pronouns 
and  prepositions — lamo  (for  lo  or  lahem),  minni  (for  miyt),  lemo 
(for  ^),  Lemo  (for  5),  hemo  (for  D),  eleh  (for  '7N),  adai  (for  ^^). 

^  So  in  tlie  highly  poetic  Ps.  viii.  8  we  have  zonch  (sheep)  for  the  prosaic 
zon ;  alaphim  (oxen)  for  bakar ;  sadai  (fiekl)  for  scuhh ;  and  hahamoth  sadai 
(beasts  of  the  field)  instead  of  haiaih  haarez. 


THE   POETRY   OF   THE   BIBLE.  123 


YERSIFICATIOX. 

Hebrew  poetry  has  a  certain  rhythmical  flow,  a  rise  and  fall 
(arsis  and  thesis),  versicular  and  strophic  divisions,  also  occa- 
sional alliterations  and  rhymes,  and  especially  a  correspondence 
of  clauses  called  "  parallelism,^'  but  no  regular  system  of  versifi- 
cation, as  we  understand  it.  It  is  not  fettered  by  mechanical  and 
uniform  laws  ;  it  does  not  rest  on  quantity  or  syllabic  measure; 
there  is  no  equal  number  of  syllables  in  each  line  or  verse,  nor 
of  lines  in  each  stanza  or  strophe.  It  is  poetry  of  sense  rather 
than  sound.  The  thought  is  lord  over  the  outward  form.  It 
differs  in  this  respect  from  classical,  modern,  and  also  from  later 
Hebrew  poetry.  "  Compared  with  the  poetry  of  other  ancient 
nations,''  says  Ewald,  "  Hebrew  poetry  represents  a  more  simple 
and  childlike  age  of  mankind,  and  overflows  with  an  internal 
fullness  and  grace  that  cares  very  little  for  external  ornament 
and  nice  artistic  law."  ^ 

This  freedom  and  elasticity  of  Hebrew  poetry  gives  it,  for 
purposes  of  translation,  a  great  advantage  above  ancient  and 
modern  poetry,  and  subserves  the  universal  mission  of  the  Bible, 
as  the  book  of  faith  and  spiritual  life  for  all  nations  and  in  all 
languages.  A  more  artificial  and  symmetrical  structure  would 
make  the  translation  a  difficult  task,  and  either  render  it  dull  and 
prosy,  by  a  faithful  adherence  to  the  sense,  or  too  free  and  loose, 
by  an  imitation  of  the  artistic  form.  Besides  it  would  introduce 
confusion  among  the  translations  of  different  Christian  nations. 
The  Iliad  of  Homer,  the  Odes  of  Horace,  Dante's  Divina 
Commedia,  Petrarca's  Sonnets,  Milton's  Paradise  Lost,  Goethe's 
Faust,  cannot  be  translated  in  prose  without  losing  their  poetic 

^  EAvald  (/.  c,  p.  104)  denies  the  existence  of  rhyme  in  Hebrew  poetry  : 
yet  the  occasional  rhymes  and  alliterations  in  the  song  of  Lamech,  the 
song  of  ]Moses,  the  song  of  Deborah,  etc.,  can  hardly  be  merely  accidental. 
Delitzscli  (in  his,  Com.  on  the  Faalnis,  Leipz.,  1867,  p.  17)  says:  ''Bicalt- 
hebniische  Pocsic  hat  wedcr  Iicim  iioch  Jlctrum,  xcelehe  heide  erst  im  7.  Jahr  n. 
Chr.  von  der  j'ddischen  Poesie  angceignet  xcurden.''^  But  afterwards  he  quali- 
fies this  remark  and  admits  that  the  beginnings  of  rhyme  and  metre  are 
found  in  the  poetry  of  the  O.  T.,  so  that  there  is  an  element  of  truth  in  the 
assertion  of  Philo,  Josephue,  Eusebius  and  Jerome,  who  find  there  the  Greek 
and  Koman  metres. 


124  THE  POETRY  OF  THE   BIBLE. 

charm,  yea,  their  very  soul.  They  must  be  freely  reproduced 
in  poetic  form,  and  this  can  only  be  done  by  a  poetic  genius,  and 
with  more  or  less  departure  from  the  original.  But  the  Psalms, 
the  Book  of  Job,  and  Isaiah  can  be  transferred  by  a  good  and 
devout  scholar,  in  form  as  well  as  in  substance,  into  any  lan- 
guage, without  sacrificing  their  beauty,  sublimity,  force,  and 
rhythm.  The  Latin,  English  and  German  Psalters  are  as  poetic 
as  the  Hebrew,  and  yet  agree  with  it  and  among  themselves. 
It  is  impossible  not  to  see  here  the  hand  of  Providence,  which 
made  the  word  of  truth  accessible  to  all. 

The  few  acrostic  or  alphabetical  poems  can  hardly  be  called 
an  exception,  viz.,  Pss.  xxv.,  xxxiv.,  xxxvii.,  cxi.,  cxii.,  cxix.  and 
cxlv.,  the  Lamentations,  and  the  last  chapter  of  Proverbs  (xxxi. 
10  sqq.).  For  the  alphabetical  order  is  purely  external  and 
mechanical,  and  at  best  only  an  aid  to  the  memory.  Pss.  cxi. 
and  cxii.  are  the  simplest  examples  of  this  class;  each  contains 
twenty-two  lines,  according  to  the  number  of  the  Hebrew 
alphabet,  and  the  successive  lines  begin  with  the  letters  in  their 
regular  order.  Ps.  cxix.  consists  of  twenty-two  strophes,  cor- 
responding to  the  number  of  Plebrew  letters;  each  strophe  be- 
gins w^ith  the  letter  of  the  alphabet,  and  has  eight  parallelisms 
of  two  lines  each,  and  the  first  line  of  each  parallelism  begins 
with  the  initial  letter  of  the  strophe.  The  remaining  four  acrostic 
Psalms  are  not  so  perfect  in  arrangement. 

Many  attempts  have  been  made  by  Jewish  and  Christian 
scholars  to  reduce  the  form  of  Hebrew  poetry  to  a  regular  sys- 
tem, but  they  have  failed.  Josephus  says  that  the  Song  of 
Moses  at  the  Red  Sea  (Ex.  xv.)  and  the  farewell  Song  of  Moses 
(Deut.  xxxii.),  are  composed  in  the  hexameter  measure,  and  the 
Psalms  in  trimeters,  pentameters  and  other  metres.  But  he  and 
Philo  were  anxious  to  show  that  the  poets  of  their  nation 
anticipated  the  Greek  poets  even  in  the  art  of  versification. 
Eusebius  says  that  Deut.  xxxii.  and  Psalm  xviii.  have  the  heroic 
metre  of  sixteen  syllables,  and  that  other  metres  were  employed 
by  the  Hebrews.  Jerome,  the  most  learned  among  the  Chris- 
tian fathers  (appealing  to  Philo,  Josephus,  Origen  and  Eusebius 
for  proof),  asserts  that  the  Psalter,  the  Lamentations,  the  Book 
of  Job  and  almost  all  the  poems  of  the  Bible  are  composed  in 


THE   POETRY   OF   THE   BIBLE.  125 

hexameters  and  pentameters,  with  dactyls  and  spondees,  or  in 
other  regular  metres,  like  the  classic  poems  of  Pindar,  Alca}iis 
and  Sappho;  he  points  also  to  the  alphabetical  arrangement  of 
Pss.  cxi.,  cxii.,  cxix.,  cxlv.,  and  the  Lamentations.  But  the 
Jews,  the  custodians  of  the  Hebrew  text,  ignored  such  system 
and  arranged  the  poetic  accentuation  simply  for  cantillation  in 
the  synagogue. 

Among  later  scholars  some  deny  all  metrical  laws  in  Hebrew 
poetry  (Jose})h  Scaliger,  Richard  Simon);  others  maintain  the 
rhythm  without  metre^  (Gerhard  Vossius);  others  both  rhythm 
and  metre  (Gomarus,  Buxtorf,  Hottinger) ;  others  a  full  system 
of  versification,  though  differing  much  in  detail  (Meibom, 
Hare,  Anton,  Lautwein,  Bellerraann,  Saalschiitz,  E.  Meier,  Ley, 
Bickell,  Cheyne,  Briggs) ;  wliile  still  others,  believing  in  the 
existence  of  such  a  system,  in  whole  or  in  part,  think  it  im- 
possible to  recover  it  (Carpzov,  Lowth,  Jahn,  to  some  extent 
also  Herder,  De  Wette,  Winer  and  Wright).  Ewald  discusses 
at  great  length  the  Hebrew  rhythm,  metre  and  strophes,  also 
Hebrew  song  and  music,  but  without  making  the  matter  very 
clear.  Professor  Merx,  of  Heidelberg,  finds  in  the  Book  of 
Job  a  regular  syllabic  and  strophic  structure,  eight  syllables  in 
each  stich  or  line,  and  an  equal  number  of  stichs  in  each  strophe, 
but  he  is  obliged  to  resort  to  arbitrary  conjectures  of  lacuna?  or 
interpolations  in  the  masoretic  text.  Dr.  Julius  Ley,  in  two 
elaborate  treatises  (1875,  1887),  constructs  a  minute  system  of 
Hebrew  versification  which  is  very  ingenious  but  very  artificial. 
He  bases  it  on  accentuation,  and  lays  down  the  principle  that  the 
Hebrew  metre  is  not  regulated  by  syllables  but  by  risings  [Ile- 
bimgen),  and  the  risings  by  the  accent  which  generally  falls  on 
the  last  syllable.  He  distinguishes  hexametric,  octametric,  deca- 
metric  strophes,  disticha,  tristicha,  tetrasticha,  pentasticha,  hexas- 
ticha,  octasticha,  enneasticha.  Professor  Bickell,  a  distinguished 
Orientalist  in  the  Roman  Catholic  University  of  Innsbruck,  de- 
fends similar  views  and  furnished  specimens  of  Hebrew  poems  in 
metrical  arrangement  in  conformity  with  Syriac  poetry,^  but  in 

^  All  metre  is  rhythm,  but  not  all  rhythm  is  metre,  as  Augustiu  says  {De 
3fusica). 

2  Carmina   Vcteris   Tesiamenti  3Tetrice,    and   Dichtunyen  dcr  llebrdcr,  1S8"2 


126  THE   POETRY  OF   THE   BIBLE. 

violation  of  the  traditional  accentuation  and  vocalization.  Glet- 
man  agrees  with  him  in  principle,  but  Ecker  raised  energetic 
protest. 

The  great  objection  to  those  elaborate  systems  of  Hebrew  versi- 
fication is  that  they  are  too  artificial  and  cannot  be  carried  out 
except  by  violent  and  arbitrary  construction.  They  must  resort 
to  substitution  and  compensation  to  account  for  irregularities, 
and  violate  more  or  less  the  masoretic  system.  In  most  cases 
they  give  us  no  more  than  a  rhythm.  The  stanzas  are  of 
unusual  length,  and  usually  no  more  than  periods  in  prose.  The 
rhyme  seldom  extends  beyond  two  or  three  verses,  and  has  no  such 
fixed  rules,  as  it  has  in  modern  and  also  in  Arabic  poetry.  The 
same  is  the  case  with  the  alliteration  and  assonance ;  they  do 
occur,  but  only  occasionally  and  irregularly.  The  spirit  always 
controls  the  letter,  and  the  thought  determines  the  expression. 

PARALLELISM  OF  MEMBERS. 

But  while  the  theories  of  a  uniform  and  fully  developed 
system  of  versification  are  at  least  doubtful,  it  is  generally  ad- 
mitted that  Hebrew  poetry  is  marked  throughout  by  what  is 
called  the  parallelismus  membrorum}  It  is  not  confined  to 
Hebrew  poetry,  but  is  found  also  in  Assyrian,  Babylonian  and 
Akkadian  hymns.^     This  parallelism  consists  of  a  certain  rhyth- 

He  had  previously  published  >S'.  Eplirsemi  Sijri  Carmina  JVisihena,  1866. 
Bickell  is  a  convert  from  Lutheranism. 

^  The  term  was  introduced  by  Bishop  Lovs^th,  who  first  developed  the  sys- 
tem of  parallelism  in  its  various  forms.  But  the  thing  itself  was  known 
before  under  different  names.  Aben  Ezra  calls  it  duplicatio  {caj)Jml),  Kimchi, 
duplicaiio  sententise  verbis  variatis.  See  Delitzsch,  I.  c.  p.  18.  Rabbi  Azariah, 
and  especially  Schcittgen  {Hone  Hcbraicx,  Vol.  I.  1249-1263),  seem  to  have 
anticipated  the  main  features  of  Lowth's  system.  The  theory  of  Lowth  was 
further  developed  l)y  Bishop  Jebb  (died  at  Limerick,  1833)  :  Sacred  Litera- 
ture, comprising  a  review  of  the  principles  of  composition  laid  down  hy  Bishop 
Loicth,  London,  1831.  Jebb  has  shown  that  parallelism  pervades  a  great 
portion  of  the  New  Testament.  The  same  was  done  to  excess  by  Dr.  John 
Forbes  :  71ic  Sipnmetrical  Structure  of  Scripture^  or  the  Principles  of  Hebrew 
Parallelism,  Edinburgh,  1854. 

2  It  is  alsfl  found  in  didactic  poetry  among  the  Chinese,  although  only  in 
antithetic;  form.  So  I  was  told  by  the  late  missionary  bishop,  Dr.  Schereschrew- 
sky,  of  Peking. 


THE  POETRY  OF  THE  BIBLE.  127 

mical  and  musical  correspondence  of  two  or  more  sentences  of 
similar,  or  opposite  meaning;  so  that  idea  answers  to  idea  in 
somewhat  different  words.  It  serves,  by  a  felicitous  variation, 
to  give  full  expression  and  harmony  to  the  thought.  The  paral- 
lel members  complete  or  illustrate  each  other,  and  produce  a 
music  of  vowels  and  consonants.  Parallelism  reflects  the  play 
of  human  feeling,  and  supplies  the  place  of  regular  metre  and 
rhyme  in  a  way  that  is  easily  understood  and  remembered,  and 
can  be  easily  reproduced  in  every  language.  It  is  like  the  ebb- 
ing and  flowing  of  the  tide,  or  like  the  sound  and  its  echo. 
Ewald  happily  compares  it  to  '^  the  rapid  stroke  as  of  alternate 
wings,^^  and  to  *^  the  heaving  and  sinking  as  of  the  troubled 
heart. ^^  It  is  found  even  in  the  earliest  specimen  of  Hebrew 
poetry,  the  Song  of  Lamech  (Gen.  iv.  23).  It  must,  therefore, 
answer  to  a  natural  and  primitive  impulse  of  poetic  sentiment. 
"  Amant  alterna  camcence/'  says  Virgil.  The  classic  hexameter 
and  pentameter  are  a  continual  parallelism,  where,  as  Herder 
describes  it,  ''the  poetic  flowers  which,  in  Hebrew  verse,  grow 
on  separate  stems,  are  woven  into  an  unbroken  wreath. ^^^ 

There  are  different  forms  of  parallelism,  according  to  the 
nature  of  the  internal  relation  of  the  members.  The  corre- 
spondence may  be  either  one  of  harmony,  or  one  of  contrast,  or 
one  of  progressive  thought,  or  one  simply  of  comparison,  or  of 
symmetrical  structure.  Since  Lowth,  it  has  become  customary 
to  distinguish  three  classes  of  parallelisms :  synonymous,  anti- 
thetic, and  synthetic  or  constructive.  The  majority  belong  to  the 
third  class,  and  even  those  which  are  usually  counted  as  synony- 
mous, show  more  or  less  progress  of  thought,  and  might  as  well 
be  assigned  to  the  third  class.  A  large  number  of  parallelisms 
cannot  be  classified. 

1.  Synonymous  (also  called  gradational)  parallelism  expresses 

^  Compare  Schiller's  distich  : 

"Jw  Hexameter  steigt  dcs  Springquells  flilssige  Sdule  ; 
Im  Fentamcter  danafdllt  sie  mclodisch  hejxih.'" 

And  the  happy  rendering  of  Coleridge  : 

"  In  the  hexameter  rises  the  fountain's  silvery  column  ; 
In  the  pentameter  aye  falling  in  melody  back." 


128  THE   POETRY   OF   THE   BIBLE. 

the  same  idea  in  different  but  equivalent  words,  as  in  the  follow- 
ing examples  : — 

Ps.  II.  4.    "  He  that  sitteth  in  the  heavens  shall  laugli  : 
The  Lord  shall  have  them  in  derision. " 
Ps.  VIII.  4.    "What  is  man  that  Thou  art  mindful  of  him  ? 

And  the  son  of  man  that  Thou  visitest  him  ?" 
Ps.  XIX.   1,2.    "  The  heavens  declare  the  glory  of  Grod  : 

And  the  firmament  showeth  his  handiwork. ' ' 
' '  Day  unto  day  uttereth  speech  : 

And  night  unto  night  proclaimeth  knowledge. ' ' 
Ps.  cm.  1.    "  Bless  the  Lord,  0  my  soul  : 

And  all  that  is  within  me,  bless  His  holy  name." 
Judg.  XIV.  14.   (Samson's  riddle). 

Out  of  the  eater  came  forth  meat, 
And  out  of  the  strong  came  foith  sweetness. ' ' 

These  are  parallel  couplets ;  but  there  are  also  parallel  triplets, 

as  in  Ps.  i.  1  : — 

' '  Blessed  is  the  man 
That  walketh  not  in  the  counsel  of  the  ungodly, 
Nor  standeth  in  the  way  of  sinners. 
Nor  sitteth  in  the  seat  of  the  scornful." 

The  priestly  blessing,  Numbers  vi.  24-26,  is  a  synonymous 
tristich  : — 

"Jehovah  bless  thee  and  keep  thee  : 

Jehovah  make  His  face  shine  upon  thee  and  be  gracious  unto  thee  : 
Jehovah  lift  up  His  countenance  upon  thee,  and  give  thee  peace. ' ' 

Similar  triplets  occur  in  Job  iii.  4,  6,  9 ;  Isa.  ix.  20. 

Parallel  quatrains  or  tetrastichs  are  less  frequent,  as  in  the 
oracle  of  Jehovah  to  Rebekah  predicting  the  future  of  Jacob 
and  Esau,  Gen.  xxv.  23  : — 

"  Two  nations  are  in  thy  womb, 

And  two  peoples  will  separate  themselves  from  thy  bowels  ; 
And  people  will  prevail  over  peoi)le, 
And  the  elder  will  serve  the  younger. ' ' 

In  Ps.  ciii.  11,  12,  the  first  member  corresponds  to  the  third, 
and  the  second  to  the  fourth  : — 

"  For  as  the  heavens  are  high  above  the  earth, 

8o  great  is  His  mercy  toward  them  that  fear  Him. 
So  lar  as  the  East  is  from  the  We^^t, 

So  far  has  He  removed  our  transgressions  from  Him." 


THE   POETRY   OF   THE   BIBLE.  129 

When  the  two  members  are  precisely  the  same  in  word  and 
sense,  they  are  called  identic  parallelism  :  but  there  are  no  cases 
of  mere  repetition,  unless  it  be  for  the  sake  of  emphasis,  as  in 
Isa.  XV.  1  ;  Ps,  xciv.  1,  3. 

Occasionally  this  parallelism  is  completed  by  a  closing  rhyme, 
as  Gen.  iv.  23;  1  Sam.  xviii.  7;  Prov.  xxii.  10;  xxiii.  22. 

2.  Antithetic  parallelism  expresses  a  contrast  or  antithesis 
in  sentiment : — 

Ps.  I.  6.    "  For  the  Lord  knowetli  the  way  of  the  righteous  : 
But  the  way  of  the  ungodly  shall  perish. ' ' 

Ps.  xxxviii.  9.    ' '  Evil-doers  shall  be  cut  oif : 

But  those  that  wait  upon  tlie  Lord,  they  shall  inherit 
the  earth. ' ' 

Prov.  x.  L   "A  wise  son  rejoiceth  his  father  : 

But  a  foolish  son  is  the  grief  of  his  mother. ' ' 

Prov.  x.  7.   "  The  memoiy  of  the  just  is  a  blessing : 

But  the  name  of  the  wicked  shall  rot. ' ' 

Prov.  xii.  10,    "A  righteous  man  regardeth  the  life  of  his  beast : 

But  the  tender  mercies  of  the  wicked  are  cmel. ' ' 

Hos.  XIV.  9.    "  The  ways  of  the  Lord  are  right,  and  the  just  shall  walk 
in  them  ; 
But  the  transgressors  shall  fall  therein." 

3.  Synthetic  or  constructive  parallelism.  Here  the  con- 
struction is  similar  in  form,  without  a  precise  correspondence  in 
sentiment  and  word  as  equivalent  or  opposite,  but  with  a  grada- 
tion or  progress  of  thought,  as  in  Ps.  xix.  7-11  ;  cxlviii.  7-13; 
Isa.  xiv.  4-9.     We  quote  the  first : — 

"The  law  of  Jehovah  |  is  perfect,  |  restoring  the  soul  : 

The  testimony  of  Jehovah  |  is  sure,  |  making  wise  the  simple. 
The  precept'^  uf  Jehovah  |  are  right,  |  rejoicing  the  heart : 

The  commandment  of  Jehovah  |  is  pure,  |  enlightening  the  eyes. 
The  fear  of  Jehovah  |  is  clean,  |  enduring  forever  : 

The  judgments  of  Jehovah  |  are  true,  |  and  righteous  altogether, 
More  to  be  desired  are  they  |  than  gold,  |  yea,  than  much  fine  gold  : 

Sweeter  also  1  than  honey  |  and  the  honeycomb, 
Moreover,  by  them  |  is  Thy  serv^ant  warned  : 

In  keeping  of  them  |  there  is  great  reward. ' ' 
9 


130  THE   POETRY  OF   THE   BIBLE. 

1  Sam.  xyiii.  7.   ' '  Saul  smote  his  thousands  : 
And  David  his  myriads. ' ' 

To  these  three  kinds  of  parallelism  Jebb  {Sacred  Literature) 
adds  a  fourth,  which  he  calls  introverted  parallelism,  where  the 
first  line  corresponds  to  the  last  (fourth),  and  the  second  to  the 
penultimate  (third),  as  in  Prov.  xxiii.  15,  16  : — 

"  My  son,  if  thy  heart  be  wise, 
My  heart  also  shall  rejoice  ; 
Yea,  my  reins  shall  rejoice, 
When  thy  lips  speak  right  things. ' ' 

De  Wette  distinguishes  four,  slightly  differing  from  Lowth, 
Delitzsch  six  or  eight  forms  of  parallelism. 

The  pause  in  the  progress  of  thought  determines  the  division 
of  lines  and  verses.  Hebrew  poetry  always  adapts  the  poetic 
structure  to  the  sense.  Hence  there  is  no  monotony,  but  a  beau- 
tiful variety  and  alternation  of  different  forms.  Sometimes  the 
parallelism  consists  simply  in  the  rhythmical  correspondence  of 
sentences  or  clauses,  without  repetition  or  contrast,  or  in  carry- 
ing forward  a  line  of  thought  in  sentences  of  nearly  equal 
length,  as  in  Psalm  cxv.  1-11  : — 

"  Not  unto  us,  Jehovah,  not  unto  us, 

But  unto  Thy  name  give  glory. 
For  thy  mercy. 

For  Thy  truth's  sake. 
Wherefore  should  the  nations  say, 

'  Where  is  now  their  God  ?  ' 
But  our  Grod  is  in  the  heavens ; 

He  has  done  whatsoever  He  pleased. 
Their  idols  are  silver  and  gold. 

The  work  of  the  hands  of  men. 
A  mouth  have  they,  but  they  speak  not ; 

Eyes  have  they,  but  they  see  not ; 
Ears  have  they,  but  they  hear  not  ; 

Noses  have  they,  but  they  smell  not ; 
Hands  have  they,  but  they  handle  not ; 

Feet  have  they,  but  they  walk  not ; 
Neither  speak  they  through  their  throat. 

They  that  make  them  shall  be  like  unto  them  ; 
Yea,  every  one  that  trusteth  in  them. 


THE   rOETRY   OF   THE   BIBLE.  131 

0  Israel,  trust  tliou  in  Jehovah  : 

He  is  their  lielp  and  their  shield. 
0  house  of  Aaron,  trust  ye  in  Jehovah  : 

He  is  their  help  and  their  shield. 
Ye  that  fear  Jehovah,  trust  in  Jehovah  : 

He  is  their  help  and  their  shield. ' ' 

This  looser  kind  of  parallelism  or  rhythmical  correspoDdence 
and  symmetrical  construction  of  sentences,  characterizes  also 
much  of  the  Hebrew  prose,  e.  (/.,  the  Decalogue,  and  is  con- 
tinued in  the  Xew  Testament,  e.  g.,  in  the  Sermon  on  the 
Mount  (especially  the  Beatitudes),  in  the  Lord's  Prayer,  in  the 
Prologue  of  John,  in  Rom.  v.  12  sqq. ;  viii.  28  sqq. ;  1  Cor. 
xiii.  1  sqq.;  2  Tim.  ii.  11,  and  other  passages  wliich  we  are 
accustomed  to  read  as  prose,  but  which  even  in  form  are  equal 
to  the  best  poetry — gems  in  beautiful  setting,  apples  of  gold  in 
pictures  of  silver. 

LITERATUEE  OX  BIBLE  POETRY. 

In  conclusion,  I  present  a  classified  list  of  the  principal  works  on  the 
Poetry  of  the  Bible  : — 

I.    SPECIAL   WORKS    OX   HEBREW  POETRY. 

*  Robert  Lo"wth  (son  of  AYilliam  Lowth,  who  wrote  a  Commentary 
on  the  Prophets,  born  at  AYinchester,  1710,  Prof,  of  Poetry,  Oxford,  since 
1741,  Bishop  of  London,  since  1777,  died  17S7):  De  Sacra  Poesi  Hehra'- 
orum  Pra'Iecifones  Academicce^  Oxford,  1753  ;  with  copious  notes  b}''  JuJui 
David  JL'chaeh's  (Prof,  in  Gottingen,  d.  1791),  Gott.,  1770;  another  ed. 
with  additional  notes  by  Rosenimdler,  Leipz. ,  1815  ;  best  Latin  edition,  with 
the  additions  of  Michaelis,  Rosenmiiller,  Richter,  and  Weiss,  Oxon.,  1828. 
English  translation  {''Lectures  on  the  Sacred  Poetry  of  the  Hebrews,  with 
the  principal  notes  of  Michaelis'')  by  G.  Gregory,  1787;  reedited,  with 
improvements,  by  Calvin  E.  Stoice,  Andover,  1829.  Comp.  also  Lowth's 
preliminary^  dissertation  to  his  translation  of  Isaiah  (1773  ;  13th  ed. ,  Lond. , 
1842).  Lowth's  work  is  the  first  scholarly  attempt  at  a  learned  and  critical 
discussion  of  Hebrew  poetry.  Its  chief  merit  is  the  discovery  of  par- 
allelism. 

■^  J.  Grottfried  Herder  (an  almost  universal  genius  and  scholar,  poet, 
historian,  philosopher  and  theologian,  born  1744,  at  Mohmngen,  in  East 
Prassia,  died  as  court  chaplain  at  Weimar,  1803):  Geist  der  Ilebrdischen 
Poesie  (Spint  of  Hehr.  Poetry),  Dessau,  1782;  3d  ed.  by  Justi,  Leipz., 
1825  ;  reprinted  in  Herder's  collected  works.  Full  of  enthusiasm  for  the 
pui'ity  and  sublimity  of  Hebrew  poetry.     English  translation  by  President 


Ie32  THE   POETRY   OF   THE   BIBLE. 

James  Marsh,  Burlington,  Yt.,  1833,  2  vols,  Comp.  also  the  first  twelve 
Letters  of  Herder  on  the  Study  of  Theology.  While  Lowth  discussed 
chiefly  i\iQ  form  of  Hebrew  poetry,  Herder  eloquently  and  enthusiastically 
expounded  its  spirit. 

Leutwein :  Versuch  eiiier  richtigen  Theorie  von  der  hihiischen  Vers- 
hnist.     Tubingen,  1775. 

L.  T.  Koseg-arten :  Ueher  den  Dichtergeist  der  heil.  Schriftsteller 
und  Jesu  Chr.    Greifswald,  1794. 

Bellermann:     Versuch  ilher  die  Metrih  der  Hehr der.     Berlin,  1813. 

A.  Gugler:    Die  heil.  Kunst  der  Hebrder.     Landshut,  1814. 

J.  L.  Saalschiitz  :  Von  der  Form  der  hebrdischen  Poesie.  Konigs- 
berg,  1825. 

M.  Nicolas:  Forme  de  la  poesie  hehraique.    Paris,  1833. 

Pr.  Delitzsch :  Zur  Geschichte  der  jUdischen  Poesie  vom  Ahschluss 
der  heil.  Schriften  des  A.  Bundes  his  aif  die  neueste  Zeit.     Leipz.,  1836. 

J.  G.  Wenrich :  Commentatio  de  poeseos  JTehi^aicce  atque  ArahiccB 
origine,  indole,  mutuoque  consensu  atque  discrimine.  Lips.,  1843  (276  pp. )• 

J.  G-.  Sommer :  Vom  Reime  in  der  hehr.  Volkspoesie,  in  his  Bihl. 
Ahhandlungen.     Bonn,  1846,  pp.  85-92. 

^  H.  Hupfeld :  Rhythm  and  Accentuation  in  Ilehrew  Poetry,  transl. 
by  Prof.  Charles  M.  Mead  in  the  Andover  '' Bihliotheca  Sacra''  for  1867. 
Hupfeld  was  the  successor  of  Gesenius  in  Halle,  and  one  of  the  ablest 
Hebrew  scholars  and  commentators  on  the  Psalms  (d.  1866). 

^  Isaac  Taylor  (Independent,  a  learned  Lwman,  d.  1865)  :  The 
Spirit  of  the  Hebrew  Poetry,  repub.,  New  York,  1862  (with  a  biographical 
introduction  by  Dr.  "VYm.  Adams).  The  work  of  an  able  and  ingenious 
amateur  in  full  sympathy  with  the  spirit  of  Hebrew  Poetry. 

Ernst  Meier :  Geschichte  der  poetischen  National- Literatur  der  Ile- 
hrder.  Leipz.,  1856.  The  same:  Die  Form  der  Ilehrdischen  Poesie. 
Tubingen,  1853. 

H.  Steiner  :    Ueher  hehrdisclie  Poesie.     Basel,  1873. 

Albert  Werfer :  Die  Poesie  der  Bihel.     Tubingen,  1875. 

Julius  Ley  (Prof  in  ^Marburg):  Grundzilge  des  Rhythmus,  des  Vers- 
itnd  Strophenhaus  in  der  hebrdischen  Poesie.  Halle,  1875.  By  the  same  : 
Leitfaden  der  Metrih  der  hebrdischen  Poesie  nebst  dem  ersten  Buche  der 
Pscdmen  nach  rhythmischer  Vers- und  Strophenabtheiluug  mit  metrischer 
Analyse.     Halle,  1887. 

B.  Meteler.  Grundzilge  der  hebrdischen  Metrih  der  Psalmen. 
Miinstcr,  1870. 

G.  Bickell  (R.  Cath.  Prof  in  Innsbruck):  Metrices  hiblicce  regid(r. 
exemplis  illustratre,  and  Supplementum  metrices  biblicw.  Innsbruck,  1879  ; 
Die  hehr.  Metrih,  1881  ;    Carmina  Veteris  Tcstamenfi  metrice,  1882. 

G.  Gietmann:  Deremetrica  Ilehra;orum.     Freiburg  i.  B. ,  1880. 

J.  Ecker:  Prof.  BicheWs  Carmina  V.  T.  metrice;  der  neuste  Ver- 
such einer  hehr.  Metrih.     Miinster,  1883. 


THE   POETRY  OF  THE   BIBLE.  133 

Older  essays  on  Hebrew  poetry  and  music  by  Ebert,  Gomarus,  Schramm, 
Fleury,  Dannhaucr,  Pfeiffer,  Leyser,  Le  Clerc,  Hare,  and  others  may  be 
found  in  the  XXXIst  and  XXXIId  vols,  of  Ugolino's  Thesaurus 
Antiquitatum  /Sacra  rum  {Venet.  1744-69,  34  vols.). 

II.    ESSAYS  AND   ARTICLES   IN   BOOKS,  CYCLOPAEDIAS,  AND   REVIEWS. 

Gr.  B.  "Winer :  Poesie,  hehrdische,  in  his  Bihl  Eealwortcrhuch^  Vol. 
II.,  2G4-2G8(3ded.,  1849). 

Ed.  Reuss:  Ilehrdische  Poesie,  in  Herzog's  Real-Encyclopcedie,  Vol. 
v.,  598-608;  revised  ed.,  V.,  671-681.  Abridged  translation  with  biblio- 
grapliical  additions  in  SchafF-Herzog,  II.  953  sqq. 

"W.  A.  "Wright:  Hebrew  Poetry,  in  Smith's  Dictionary  of  the  Bible 
(enlarged  Am.  ed.),  Vol.  III.,  pp.  2549-2561. 

Ludwig-  von  Diestel  (d.  1879) :  Dichthunst  der  Ilebrder,  in 
SchenkeFs  Bibellexicon,  I.,  607-615. 

Gust.  Baur  :  Dichthunst,  in  Riehm's  Handiourterbuch  des  bibJ.  Alter- 
thums,  274-280. 

A.  S.  Aglen:  The  Poetry  of  the  Bible.  Several  Art.  in  The  Bible 
Educator.     Ed.  by  E.  II.  Plumptre.     Vols.  I.-IV.     Lond.,  1875. 

"Wm.  Robertson  Smith:  The  Poetry  of  the  Old  Testament,  in 
""The  British  Quarterly  Review''  for  Jan.,  1877,  pp.  26-70. 

Richard  Holt  Hutton :  Th-e  Poetry  of  the  Old  Testament,  in  his 
''Lit.  Essays.''     London,  1880.     Pp.  201-237. 

C.  A.  Brig-gs  (Prof  in  the  Union  Theol.  Seminary,  New  York): 
Hebrew  Poetry,  in  the  "  Homiletical  Quarterly,"  ed.  by  Caldwell  and 
Exell.  London,  1881.  By  the  same  :  Biblical  Study.  New  York  and 
Edinb.,  1883.     Ch.  IX.,  pp.  248-295. 

III.    COMMENTARIES  AND   ISAGOGICAL  WORKS. 

*  H.  Ewald  :  Die  Dichter  des  Alten  Bundes,  in  3  Parts.  Gottingen, 
1835-'37;  2ded.,  1865  sqq.  ;  3d  ed.,  1868.  English  translation,  London, 
1880  sqq.  Full  of  genius  and  independent  research.  Engl,  translation, 
London,  1880  sqq.  See  also  his  Propheten  des  Alten  Bundes,  1840  ;  3d  ed. 
1868,  3  vols.     Engl,  translation,  Lond.,  1876-81,  5  vols. 

R.  Weber:  Diepoet.  Biicher  des  A.  Bundes.     Stuttg.,  1853-60. 

Ph.  Schaff:  Introduction  to  the  Poetical  Books  of  the  0.  T.  In 
Lange's  Com.  on  Job,  Am.  ed.     New  York,  1874. 

E.  Meier:  Diepoet.  Biicher  des  A.  T.     Stuttgart,  1864. 

Tayler  Lewis :  Metrical  Version  of  KoheletK  with  an  introduction 
(in  an  Appendix  to  his  translation  of  Zockler  on  Koheleth  in  Lange's  Com- 
mentary).    New  York,  1870. 

The  relevant  sections  in  the  Critical  Introductions  to  the  Old  Testament 
by  De  AVette,  Haevernick,  Keil,  Bleek,  Keuss  (§§  122-129,  p.  141 
sq(i.),  and  the  numerous  Commentaries  on  the  Psalms,  the  Book  of  Job, 
the  Proverbs,  and  the  Song  of  Songs. 


THE  DIES  lE^. 


1.  "Dies  irae,  dies  ilia, 
Solvet  saeclum  in  favilla, 
Teste  David  cum  Sibylla. 

2.  Quantus  tremor  est  futurus, 
Quando  judex  est  venturus, 
Cuncta  stricte  discussurus  ! 

3.  Tuba,  mirum  spargens  sonum, 
Per  sepulchra  regionum, 
Coget  omnes  ante  thronum. 

4.  Mors  stupebit  et  natura, 
Quum  resurget  creatura, 
Judicanti  responsura. 

5.  Liber  scriptus  proferetur, 
In  quo  totum  continetur, 
Unde  mundus  judicetur. 

6.  Judex  ergo  quum  sedebit 
Quidquid  latet  apparebit. 
Nil  inultum  remanebit. 

7.  Quid  sum  miser  tunc  dicturus, 
Quem  patronum  rogaturus, 
Quum  vix  Justus  sit  securus  ? 

8.  Rex  tremendae  majestatis. 
Qui  salvandos  salvas  gratis, 
Salva  me,  fons  pietatis. 

g.  Recordare,  Jesu  pie. 

Quod  sum  causa  tuae  viae; 
Ne  me  perdas  ilia  die. 

10.  Quaerens  me  sedisti  lassus, 
Redemisti  crucem  passus, 
Tantus  labor  non  sit  cassus. 


11.  Justae  judex  ultionis, 
Donum  fac  remissionis 
Ante  diem  rationis. 

12.  Ingemisco  tamquam  reus, 
Culpa  rubet  vultus  meus : 
Supplicanti  parce,  Deus. 

13.  Qui  Mariam  absolvisti, 
Et  latronem  exaudisti, 
Mihi  quoque  spem  dedisti. 

14.  Preces  meae  non  sunt  dignae, 
Sed  Tu,  bone,  fac  benigne, 
Ne  perenni  cremer  igne. 

15.  Inter  oves  locum  praesta, 
Et  ab  haedis  me  sequestra, 
Statuens  in  parte  dextra. 

16.  Confutatis  maledictis, 
Flammis  acribus  addictis ; 
Voca  me  cum  benedictis. 

17.  Oro  supplex  et  acclinis. 
Cor  contritum,  quasi  cinis : 
Gere  curam  mei  finis." 


18.  [Lacrymosa  dies  ilia, 
Qua  resurget  ex  favilla, 
Judicandus  homo  reus, 
Huic  ergo  parce,  Deus  ! 

19.  Pie  Jesu,  Domine, 

Dona  eis  requiem.     Amen.] 


This  is  the  famous  Dies  Ir^  after  the  received  text  of  the 
Roman  Missal.     Mohnike  and   Daniel  give  also   the  various 
readings  and  the  text  of  Hiimmerlin,  which  difiers  considerably 
134 


THE  DIES  IR.^.  135 

and  has  six  additional  stanzas.  Of  this  and  the  text  from  the 
marble  slab  at  Mantua  I  shall  speak  below.  I  have  put  the 
last  six  lines  in  brackets  because  they  depart  from  the  triplet 
and  triple  rhyme,  and  are  no  part  of  the  original  poem,  but  were 
added  for  liturgical  purposes. 

THE  XAME  AXD  USE  OF  THE  POEM. 
The  poem  is  variously  called  "  Prosa  de  Mortuis;^^  ^'  De  Die 
Jurlicll;''  "In  Commemoratione  Defundorum;^^  but  usually, 
from  its  opening  words,  "Dies  IvceP  It  is  used  in  the  Latin 
Church,  regularly,  on  the  Day  of  All  Souls  (Xovember  2),  and, 
at  the  discretion  of  the  priest,  in  masses  for  the  dead  and  on  other 
funeral  solemnities.  It  is  frequently  accompanied  with  music, 
which  doubles  the  effect  of  the  poem,  especially  Mozart^s 
Requiemy  his  last  masterpiece,  which  is  itself  like  a  wondrous 
trumpet  spreading  wondrous  sounds. 

CONTEXTS. 

The  Dies  Ir.e  is  a  judgment  hymn  written  for  private  devo- 
tion. It  is  an  act  of  humiliation  and  prayer  in  contemplation 
of  the  impending  day  of  retribution,  when  all  secrets  shall  be 
revealed  and  all  men  be  judged  according  to  their  deeds  done  in 
this  life.  It  is  a  soliloquy  cast  in  the  mould  of  Augustinian 
theology.  It  vibrates  between  a  profound  sense  of  man's  guilt 
and  a  humble  trust  in  Christ's  mercy.  The  poet  is  the  single 
actor,  and  prays  for  himself.  Without  a  prelude  he  brings  before 
us  the  awful  theme  with  a  few  startling  words  from  the  Holy 
Scriptures.  He  first  describes  the  general  judgment  as  a  future 
fact,  with  its  accompanying  terrors ;  then  he  gives  expression  to 
the  sense  of  guilt  and  dismay,  and  ends  with  a  prayer  for  the 
mercy  of  the  Saviour,  which  prompted  Him  to  die  for  poor  sinners, 
to  forgive  Mary  Magdalene,  and  to  promise  the  penitent  robber, 
in  his  dying  hour,  a  seat  in  Paradise. 

The  poem  is  based  upon  the  prophetic  description  of  the  great 
Day  of  Jehovah  as  described  in  Zephaniah  i.  15,  16  : — 

"That  day  is  the  day  of  wrath, 
A  day  of  trouble  and  distress, 
A  da}"  of  wasteness  and  desolation, 
A  day  of  darkness  and  gloom. 


136  THE   DIES  lE^E. 

A  day  of  clouds  and  thick  darkness, 
A  day  of  the  trumpet  and  alarm 
Against  the  fenced  cities, 
And  against  high  battlements."  ^ 

The  first  words  of  this  prophecy,  according  to  the  Latin  trans- 
lation, "Dies  irce,  dies  illa/^  furnished  the  beginning  and  the 
key-note  of  the  poem.  In  like  manner  the  Stabat  Mater 
derived  its  theme  and  inspiration  from  a  few  words  of  the  Bible 
in  the  Vulgate  (John  xix.  25).  The  author  of  Dies  Ir.e  had 
also  in  view  the  Lord's  description  of  His  coming  and  of  the 
general  judgment.  Matt.  xxiv.  and  xxv.,  and  several  passages  of 
the  New  Testament,  especially  2  Pet.  iii.  7-12:  "The  day  of 
the  Lord  will  come  as  a  thief,  in  which  the  heavens  shall  pass 
away  with  a  great  noise,  and  the  elements  shall  be  dissolved 
with  fervent  heat,  and  the  earth  and  the  works  that  are  therein 
shall  be  burned  up."  The  "  tuba  miimm  spargens  sonum/^  in 
verse  3,  is  an  allusion  to  1  Cor.  xv.  52:  "The  trumpet  shall 
sound,  and  the  dead  shall  be  raised," and  1  Thess.  iv.  16:  "The 
Lord  Himself  shall  descend  from  heaven  with  a  shout,  with  the 
voice  of  the  archangel,  and  with  the  trump  of  God."  The 
^^ liber  scriptus/'  in  verse  5,  is  the  record  of  all  human  actions, 
which  will  be  opened  on  the  judgment  day,  Dan.  vii.  10;  Kev. 
XX.  12.  The  reference  to  it  calls  to  mind  the  sinful  deeds  and 
deepens  the  sense  of  guilt  and  awe.^  In  verse  7  the  writer  had 
undoubtedly  in  mind  Job  iv.  18;  xv.  15,  and  especially  1  Pet. 
iv.  18  :  "If  the  righteous  is  scarcely  saved  {si  Justus  vix  salvabi- 
tur),  where  shall  the  ungodly  and  sinner  appear?"  The  second 
line  in  verse  8  expresses  the  idea  of  salvation  by  free  grace  as 
taught  in  Rom.  iii.  24  ("  being  justified  freely  by  his  grace/'  justi- 
jicaii  gratis  per  gratiam  ipsius) ;  Eph.  ii.  8 ;  2  Tim.  i.  9,  etc.  The 
first  line  in  verse  10 :  "  Qucerens  me  sedisti  (not,  venisti)  lassus/' 
is  a  touching  allusion  to  the  incident  related  John  iv.  6:  ^' Jesus 
FATIGATUS  ex  itinere,  sedebat  sic  supra  fontem/'  unless  it  be 

^  According  to  the  translation  of  the  Vulgate,  "Dies  ir.e,  dies  illa, 
dies  iribulationis  ct  angustiie,  dies  calamitatis  et  misei'ix,  dies  ienehrarum  ct  cali- 
ginis,  dies  ncbahe  et  iurbinis,  dies  tuhx  et  clangoris  super  civitates  munitas  et 
super  angclos  excehos. ' ' 

2  A  writer  in  the  Loudon  "Spectator"  for  March  7,  I8G8,  mistakes  this 
book  for  tlie  Bible. 


THE  DIES  1R2E.  137 

referred  to  the  whole  state  of  humiliation.  Mary,  in  verse  13, 
is  Mary  Magdalene,  or  the  sinful  woman  to  whom  Christ  said: 
*^Thy  faith  hath  saved  thee;  go  in  peace,'^  Luke  vii.  50.  Verses 
15  and  16  are  suggested  by  the  description  of  the  judgment, 
Matt.  XXV.  33  sqq. 

David  is  mentioned  in  the  first  stanza  as  the  representative  of 
the  Old  Testament  prophets,  with  reference  probably  to  several 
Psalms  in  which  the  judgment  of  the  world  is  foretold,  as  Ps. 
xcvi.  13  ("He  cometh.  He  cometh  to  judge  the  earth;  He  shall 
judge  the  world  with  righteousness");  cii.  26  (''The  heavens  shall 
perish").  In  some  copies  and  translations,  however,  Petei'  is 
substituted  for  David,  on  account  of  2  Pet.  iii.  7-12. 

"With  David  is  joined  the  Sibyl  as  the  representative  of  the 
unconscious  prophecies  of  heathenism,  with  allusion  to  the  Si- 
bylline Oracles  of  the  destruction  of  the  world.  The  writer  no 
doubt  had  in  view  chiefly  those  lines  of  Sibylla  Erythrsea,  which 
form  an  acrostic  on  the  words  IIIIOTI  XPIITOI  6  EOT  TIG  I 
IQTHP,  i.  e.  "Jesus  Christ,  Son  of  God,  Saviour,"  and  which 
are  quoted  by  Eusebius  iu  Greek,  and  by  St.  Augustin  in  a 
Latin  metrical  version,  retaining  the  acrostic  form.-^  This  apoc- 
ryphal feature  is  somewhat  repugnant  to  modern  taste,  and  hence 
omitted  or  altered  in  many  Protestant  versions  of  the  poem.^  But 
it  is  in  perfect  keeping  with  the  patristic  and  scholastic  use  of  the 
Sibylline  Oracles,  the  4th  Eclogue  of  Virgil,  and  other  heathen 
testimonies  of  the  same  kind,  for  apologetic  purposes.  It  gives  to 
the  idea  of  the  judgment  of  the  world  a  universal  character,  as 
being  founded  in  the  expectations  of  Gentiles,  Jews,  and  Chris- 
tians, and  indicated  by  the  light  of  reason  as  well  as  by  the  voice 
of  revelation.  The  mediaeval  painters  and  Michael  Angelo  like- 
wise placed  the  Sibyl  alongside  of  the  prophets  of  Israel. 

^  Augustin,  De  Civitate  Dei,  lib.  xviii.,  cap.  23  (trauslated  in  Schaff's  ed. 
of  "  The  City  of  God,"  p.  572  sq.).  The  oracle  consists  of  27  lines,  and  com- 
mences : — 

" ludicii  signum  tcllus  sudore  madescet  ; 
Ec  Rex  adveniet  per  sxcla  futurus  : 
Scilicet  in  came prsesens  ut  Judicet  orhem.'^'' 

2  Some  Roman  Catholic  ^Missals,  as  those  of  Paris  and  Metz  (1778),  substi- 
tute from  Matt.  xxiv.  30,  for  David  cum  Sibylla  : — 
"  Crucis  expandens  vexilla.'^ 


138  THE   DIES  IRM. 

The  original  poem  appropriately  closes  with  the  words  :  ^'Gere 
curam  met  finisJ^  The  last  six  lines  break  the  unity  and  sym- 
metry of  the  poem,  they  differ  from  the  rest  in  rhyme  and 
measure,  and  turn  the  attention  from  the  writer  to  the  departed 
faithful  as  the  subject  of  his  prayer  {Jiuic,  eis).  They  are,  there- 
fore, an  addition  by  another  hand,  probably  from  a  funeral 
service  already  in  public  use. 


CHARACTER  AND  VALUE. 

The  Dies  Ir^  is  the  acknowledged  masterpiece  of  Latin 
church  poetry,  aud  the  greatest  judgment  hymn  of  all  ages.  No 
single  poem  of  any  nation  or  language  has  acquired  such  a 
celebrity,  and  been  the  subject  of  so  much  praise  and  comment. 
It  has  no  rival.  It  stands  solitary  and  alone  in  its  glory,  and 
will  probably  never  be  surpassed. 

'^It  would  be  difficult,''  says  Coles,  "to  find,  in  the  whole 
range  of  literature,  a  production  to  which  a  profounder  interest 
attaches  than  to  that  magnificent  canticle  of  the  middle  ages,  the 
Dies  Ir^e.  Among  poetic  gems  it  is  the  diamond.''  The  Ger- 
mans call  it,  with  reference  to  its  majesty  and  antique  massive- 
ness,  the  gigantic  hymn  (Gigantenhymnus).  In  simplicity  and 
faith  it  fully  equals  an  older  anonymous  judgment  hymn  of  the 
seventh  or  eighth  century,  commencing:  ^' Apparebit  repentina 
magna  dies  Domini  ;^^  ^  while  in  lyric  fervor  and  effect,  as  well  as 
in  majesty  and  terror,  it  far  surpasses  it  and  all  the  numerous 
imitations  of  later  times.  The  Stabat  Mater  Dolorosa. 
bears  many  points  of  resemblance,  being  likewise  the  product  of 
the  Franciscan  order,  a  regular  part  of  the  Catholic  worship,  the 
theme  of  glorious  musical  compositions,  and  multiplied  by  a 
large  number  of  translations.  It  is  equal,  or  even  superior,  to 
the  Dies  Ir^e  in  pathos,  but  does  not  reach  its  power  and 
grandeur,  and  offends  Protestant  ears  by  addressing  the  Virgin 
Mary  rather  than  Christ. 

The  Dies  Ir^e  breathes,  it  is  true,  the  mediaeval  spirit  of  legal- 

^  See  the  Latin  text  in  Daniel,  Thcs.  Hijmnol.  i.  194,  and  the  English 
version  of  John  M.  Neale  in  Schaff's  Christ  in  Song,  p.  287  sqq.  (London 
edition). 


THE  DIES  IR^.  139 

istic  and  ascetic  piety,  and  looks  forward  to  the  solemn  winding- 
up  of  the  world's  history  with  feelings  of  trembling  and  fear 
rather  than  of  hope.^  The  concluding  prayer  for  the  dead,  which, 
however,  is  a  later  addition,  implies  that  the  souls  of  the  departed 
(in  Purgatory)  may  be  benefited  by  the  prayers  of  the  living. 
But  with  this  exception  the  poem  is  free  from  the  objectionable 
features  of  Romanism;  while  it  is  positively  evangelical  in 
representing  salvation  as  an  act  of  the  free  grace  of  Christ,  "  qui 
salvandos  salvat  gratis.''^  And  in  the  lines,  ^^ Quern  patronum 
rogaturus,  Quum  vix  Justus  sit  securus,^^  it  virtually  renounces 
the  doctrine  of  the  advocacy  of  the  Virgin  and  the  Saints,  and 
takes  refuge  only  in  Christ.  Beneath  the  drifting  mass  of  me- 
diaeval traditions  there  was  an  undercurrent  of  simple  faith  in 
Christ,  which  meets  us  in  the  writings  of  St.  Anselm,  St.  Ber- 
nard, the  sermons  of  Tauler,  and  in  the  inimitable  Imitation  of 
Christ  by  Thomas  a  Kempis.  When  Christians  come  to  die, 
they  ask  nothing  but  mercy  and  rely  solely  on  the  merits  of  the  Re- 
deemer. The  nearer  they  approach  Christ  and  eternity  the 
nearer  they  approach  each  other.  Copernicus  composed  the 
following  epitaph  for  himself: 

' '  Not  the  grace  bestowed  upon  Paul  do  I  pray  for  ; 
Not  the  mercy  by  which  Thou  pardoned.st  Peter  : 
That  alone  which  Thou  grantedst  the  crucified  robber, — 
That  alone  do  I  pray  for. ' ' 

The  Dies  Ir^  is  as  much  admired  by  Protestants  as  by  Roman 
Catholics.  Protestant  writers  have  done  most  for  its  illustration 
and  translation,  and  Goethe  has  best  described  its  effect  upon 
the  guilty  conscience  (in  the  cathedral  scene  of  Faust) : 

' '  Hon'or  seizes  thee  ! 
The  trump  sounds  ! 
The  grave  trembles  ! 
And  thy  heart 
From  the  repose  of  its  ashes, 
For  fiery  torment 
Brought  to  fife  again, 
Trembles  up. ' ' 

^  The  bright  aspect  of  the  judgment  as  the  day  of  complete  redemption  i9 
set  forth  in  the  mediaeval  companion  hymn,  ''Dies  iras,  dies  vitx.''^  See 
Schaflf 's  Christ  in  Song,  p.  296. 


140  THE   DIES  lE^. 

The  secret  of  the  power  of  the  Dies  Ir^  lies  first  in  the 
intensity  of  pious  feeling  with  which  its  great  theme  is  handled. 
The  poet  realizes  the  impending  judgment  of  the  world  as  an 
awful  and  overpowering  event  that  is  as  certain  as  the  approach 
of  night.  He  hears  the  trumpet  of  the  archangel  sounding 
through  the  open  sepulchres.  He  sees  the  dead  rising  from  the 
dust  of  ages,  and  stands  aghast  before  the  final  conflagration 
and  collapse  of  the  universe.  He  sees  the  Son  of  Man  seated  in 
terrific  majesty  on  the  judgment  throne,  with  the  open  book  of 
the  deeds  of  ages,  dividing  the  good  from  the  bad  and  pro- 
nouncing the  irrevocable  sentence  of  everlasting  weal  and  ever- 
lasting woe.  And  with  the  spirit  of  an  humble  penitent  he 
pleads  for  mercy,  mercy  at  the  hands  of  Him  who  left  his 
throne  of  glory  and  died  on  the  cross  for  the  salvation  of  sinners. 
The  poem  is  a  cry  from  the  depth  of  personal  experience,  and 
irresistibly  draws  every  reader  into  sympathetic  excitement. 
That  man  is  indeed  to  be  pitied  who  can  read  it  without 
shaking  and  quivering  with  emotion. 

The  second  element  of  its  power  lies  in  the  inimitable  form 
wdiich  commands  the  admiration  of  every  man  of  taste  for  poetry 
or  music.  The  poem  is  divided  into  stanzas ;  each  stanza  is  a 
triplet  with  a  triple  double  rhyme,  which  strikes  the  ear  like 
solemn  music  and  excites  deep  emotion.  Dante  may  have  caught 
from  it  the  inspiration  of  the  spirit  and  form  of  his  Divina 
Com  media  with  its  triplets  and  terza  rima.  Each  word  is  the 
right  word  in  the  right  place,  and  could  not  be  spared.  And 
what  a  combination  of  simplicity  and  majesty  in  the  diction  as 
well  as  the  thought !  Whatever  there  is  of  power,  dignity  and 
melody  in  the  old  Roman  tongue  is  here  combined  with  unadorned 
simplicity,  as  in  no  other  poem,  heathen  or  Christian,  and  is  made 
subservient  to  the  one  grand  idea  of  the  poem.  The  Dies  Irje  is 
onomato-poetic.  It  echoes,  as  well  as  human  language  can  do,  the 
collapse  and  wreck  of  the  universe,  the  trembling  and  wailing 
of  sinners  before  the  judgment  seat  of  an  infinitely  holy  and 
righteous  God,  and  the  humble  })leading  for  mercy  from  the 
All-Merciful.  Every  word  sounds  like  the  peal  of  an  organ,  yea, 
like  the  trumpet  of  the  archangel  summoning  the  dead  to  end- 
less bliss  or  to  endless  woe.    The  stately  metre,  the  tri[)le  rhyme. 


THE  DIES  1R2E.  141 

the  selection  of  the  vowels  in  full  harmony  With  the  thought 
and  feeling,  heighten  and  complete  the  effect  upon  the  ear  and 
the  heart  of  the  hearer.  The  music  of  the  vowel  assonances 
and  consonances,  e.  g.,  the  double  u  in  the  2d  and  7th  stanzas 
(fatarus,  venturus,  discussurus  ;  diduruSj  rogaturus,  securus),  the 
o  and  u  in  the  3d  stanza  (sonum,  regionumy  thronum),  the  i  and 
e  in  the  9th  stanza  {pie,  viae,  die),  defy  the  skill  of  the  best 
translators  in  any  language.^ 

OPINIONS  OF  CRITICS. 

We  add  the  judgments  of  eminent  writers. 

Frederick  von  Meyer,  a  senator  of  Frankfort-on-the-Main, 
and  author  of  a  revision  of  Luther's  German  Bible,  in  intro- 
ducing two  original  translations  of  the  Dies  Irje,  calls  it  "an 
awful  poem,  poor  in  imagery,  all  feeling.  Like  a  hammer  it 
beats  the  human  breast  with  three  mysterious  rhyme-strokes. 
With  the  unfeeling  person  who  can  read  it  without  terror,  or 
hear  it  without  awe,  I  would  not  live  under  one  roof.  I  wish 
it  could  be  sounded  into  the  ears  of  the  impenitent  and  hypo- 
crites every  Ash  Wednesday,  or  Good  Friday,  or  any  other  day 
of  humiliation  and  prayer  in  all  the  churches.''^ 

Daniel,  the  learned  hymnologist,  justly  styles  the  Dies  Irje 
^^uno  omnium  consensu  sacrae  poeseos  summum  decus  et  ecclesice 

^  In  another  place  {Christ  in  Song,  London  ed.,  1870,  p.  290)  I  have  thus 
characterized  this  poem  :  "  The  secret  of  the  irresistible  power  of  the  Dies 
Irje  lies  in  the  awful  grandeur  of  the  theme,  the  intense  earnestness  and 
pathos  of  the  poet,  the  simple  majesty  and  solemn  music  of  its  language, 
the  stately  metre,  the  triple  rhyme,  and  the  vowel  assonances  chosen  in 
striking  adaptation  to  the  sense, — all  combining  to  produce  an  overwhelming 
effect,  as  if  we  heard  the  final  crash  of  the  universe,  the  commotion  of  the 
opening  graves,  the  trumpet  of  the  archangel  that  summons  the  quick  and 
the  dead,  and  as  if  we  saw  'the  King  of  tremendous  majesty,'  seated  on 
the  tlu'one  of  justice  and  mercy,  and  ready  to  dispense  eternal  life  and 
eternal  woe." 

2  ''  Der  Lichibote^^  (Frankfort-on-the-Main,  1806):  ''  Wie  ein  Hammer 
schlagt  cs  mit  drci  gcheimnissvollcn  Bcimkldngen  an  die  3Iensc7ienhru8t.  3Iit  dem 
Unempfindlichen,  der  es  oJine  Schrecken  Icsen  und  oJme  Grauen  lioren  kann, 
muehte  ich  nicht  unter  einem  Dache  wolincn,''^  Daniel,  ii.  112,  erroneously 
ascribes  this  admirable  description  to  Guericke  (1849),  who  must  have  bor- 
rowed it  from  Meyer  (180GV 


142  THE  DIES  IRvE. 

latince  x£t/i7jXt(»  prdiosissimum,^'  and  adds :  "  Quot  sunt  verba  tot 
ponder  a,  immo  tonitruaJ^  ^ 

Albert  Knapp,  one  of  the  most  gifted  religious  poets  of  Ger- 
many, compares  the  Latin  original  to  a  blast  from  tiie  trump  of 
the  resurrection,  and  declares  it  inimitable  in  any  translation.^ 

Dean  Milman  places  it  next  to  the  Te  Deum,  and  remarks: 
"There  is  nothing,  in  my  judgment,  to  be  compared  with  the 
monkish  Dies  irce,  dies  ilia,  or  even  the  Stahat  3IaterJ' 

Dr.  William  R.  Williams,  an  American  Baptist  divine,  and 
a  scholar  of  cultivated  literary  taste,  has  appended  to  his  essay 
on  the  "Conservative  Principle  of  our  Literature,^^  a  fine  note 
on  Dies  Irje,  in  which  he  characterizes  it  thus :  "  Combining 
somewhat  of  the  rhythm  of  classical  Latin  with  the  rhymes 
of  the  mediaeval  Latin,  treating  of  a  theme  full  of  awful  sub- 
limity, and  grouping  together  the  most  startling  imagery  of 
Scripture  as  to  the  last  judgment,  and  throwing  this  into  yet 
stronger  relief  by  the  barbaric  (?)  simplicity  of  the  style  in  which 
it  is  set,  and  adding  to  all  these  its  full  and  trumpet-like  caden- 
ces, and  uniting  with  the  impassioned  feelings  of  the  South, 
whence  it  emanated,  tlie  gravity  of  the  North,  whose  severer 
style  it  adopted,  it  is  well  fitted  to  arouse  the  hearer."^ 

Archbishop  Trench,  who  among  other  useful  works  has  pre- 
pared an  admirable  collection  of  Latin  Church  poetry,  and  writ- 
ten one  of  the  best  translations  of  Dies  Irm,  remarks:  "The 
metre  so  grandly  devised,  of  which  I  remember  no  other  example,^ 
fitted  though  it  has  here  shown  itself  for  bringing  out  some  of 

^   Thcs.  Hymnol.,  ii.,  p.  112, 

2  Evanjelischer  Licderschatz,  3d  ed.,  p.  1347. 

3  3Iiscellanies,  N.  Y.,  1850,  p.  78. 

*  This  is  an  error.     There  are  verses  of  striking  resemblance  attributed  by 
some  to  St.  Bernard,  but  probably  of  much  later  date  (seeMohnike,  I.  c,  p.  9): 
"  Quum  rccordor  moriturus 
Quid  post  mortem  sim  futurus, 
Terror  terret  me  venturus, 
Quern  expecio  non  securus. 
Terret  dies  me  icrroris, 
Dies  irne  ac  furoris, 
Dies  luctus  ac  moeroris, 
Dies  ultrix  jyeceatoris, 
Dies  irx,  dies  ilia.'''' 


THE  DIES  mJE.  143 

the  noblest  powers  of  the  Latin  language — the  solemn  effect  of 
the  triple  rhyme,  which  has  been  likened  [by  Fred,  von  Meyer] 
to  blow  followino;  blow  of  the  hammer  on  the  anvil — the  con- 
fidence  of  the  poet  in  the  universal  interest  of  his  theme,  a 
confidence  which  has  made  him  set  out  his  matter  with  so  majestic 
and  unadorned  a  plainness  as  at  once  to  be  Intelligible  to  all — 
these  merits,  with  many  more,  have  combined  to  give  the  Dies 
Ir.e  a  foremost  place  among  the  masterpieces  of  sacred  song.  ^ 

Abraham  Coles,  the  author  of  seventeen  distinct  translations 
of  Dies  Ir^,  says  of  it  among  other  things  :  "  Every  line  weeps. 
Underneath  every  word  and  syllable  a  living  heart  throbs  and 
pulsates.  The  very  rhythm,  or  that  alternate  elevation  and  de- 
pression of  the  voice  which  prosodists  call  the  arsis  and  the 
thesis,  one  might  almost  fancy  Avere  synchronous  with  the  con- 
traction and  the  dilatation  of  the  heart.  It  Is  more  than  dramatic. 
The  horror  and  the  dread  are  real,  are  actual,  not  acted  !'^ 

"The  Dies  Ir^e,'^  to  quote  from  the  celebrated  French  phi- 
losopher Victor  Cousin,  '^recited  only,  produces  the  most  terrible 
effect.  In  those  fearful  words,  every  blow  tells,  so  to  speak; 
each  word  contains  a  distinct  sentiment,  an  Idea  at  once  pro- 
found and  determinate.  The  intellect  advances  at  each  step, 
and  the  heart  rushes  on  In  Its  turn.^^^ 

Mrs.  Charles,  the  accomplished  authoress  of  the  "Schonberg- 
Cotta  Fauilly"  and  other  popular  works,  thus  speaks  of  the 
Dies  Ir^e:  "That  hymn  rose  alone  in  a  comparative  pause,  as  ^ 
If  Christendom  had  been  hushed  to  listen  to  its  deep  music, 
ranging  as  It  does  through  so  many  tones  of  human  feeling, 
from  the  treuibling  awe  and  the  low  murmurs  of  confession,  to 
tender,  pathetic  pleading  with  One  who,  though  the  ^just,  aveng- 
ing Judge,  yet  sate  weary  on  the  well  of  Samaria,  seeking  the 
lost,  trod  the  mournful  way,  and  died  the  bitterest  death  for 
sinful  men.'  Its  supposed  author,  Thomas  of  Celano,  in  the 
Abruzzo,  lived  during  the  fourteenth  [thirteenth]  century,  was 
a  Franciscan  monk,  and  a  personal  friend  of  St.  Francis  him- 
self, whose  life  he  wrote.  But  so  much  doubt  has  hung  about 
the  authorship,  and  if  Thomas  of  Celano  was  the  author,  so 

^  Sacred  Latin  Poetry,  2d  ed. ,  p.  296. 

^  Lectures  on  the  True,  the  Beautiful,  and  the  Good,  p.  177. 


144  THE  DIES  lE.E. 

little  is  known  of  him — even  the  date  of  his  birth  and  death 
not  being  ascertained — that  we  may  best  think  of  the  Dies  Irj^: 
as  a  solemn  strain  sung  by  an  invisible  singer.  There  is  a  hush 
in  the  great  choral  service  of  the  universal  Church,  when  sud- 
denly, we  scarcely  know  whence,  a  single  voice,  low  and  trem- 
bling, breaks  the  silence;  so  low  and  grave  that  it  seems  to 
deepen  the  stillness,  yet  so  clear  and  deep  that  its  softest  tones 
and  words  are  heard  throughout  Christendom,  and  vibrate 
throughout  every  heart — grand  and  echoing  as  an  organ,  yet 
homely  and  human  as  if  the  words  were  spoken  ratlier  than 
sung.  And  through  the  listening  multitudes  solemnly  that 
melody  flows  on,  sung  not  to  the  multitudes,  but  'to  the  Lord,' 
and  therefore  carrying  with  it  the  hearts  of  men,  till  the  singer 
is  no  more  solitary,  but  the  selfsame  tearful,  solemn  strain  pours 
from  the  lips  of  the  whole  Church  as  if  from  one  voice,  and  yet 
each  one  sings  it  as  if  alone,  to  God.'^^ 

Edwards  and  Park,  in  their  Selections  from  German  Litera- 
ture^ quote  a  remark  of  Tholuck,  as  to  the  deep  sensation 
produced  by  the  singing  of  this  hymn  in  the  University  church 
at  Halle:  "The  impression,  especially  that  which  was  made  by 
the  last  words,  as  sung  by  the  University  choir  alone,  will  be 
forgotten  by  no  one."  An  American  clergyman,  present  on  the 
occasion,  said  :  "It  was  impossible  to  refrain  from  tears,  when, 
at  the  seventh  stanza,  all  the  trumpets  ceased,  and  the  choir, 
accompanied  by  a  softened  tone  of  the  organ,  sung  those  touching 
lines — 

'  Quid  sum  miser  tunc  dicturus. 

Literary  men  and  secular  poets  have  been  captivated  by  the 
Dies  Ir^  as  well  as  men  in  full  religious  sympathy  with  its 
solemn  thoughts  and  feelings. 

Goethe  introduced  several  stanzas  with  thrilling  effect  in  the 
cathedral  scene  of  Faust  to  stir  np  the  conscience  of  poor 
Margaret,  who  is  seized  with  horror  at  the  thought  of  the 
sounding  trump,  the  trembling  graves,  and  the  fiery  torment. 

Justin  us  Kerner,  a  Suabian  poet  and  a  friend  of  Uhland  and 
Schwab,  made  good  use  of  it  in   his   poem   Die  Wahnsinnigen 

1  The  Voice  of  Christian  Life  in  Sonff^  N.  York  ed.,  1859,  p.  170. 
^Andover,  Mass.,  iHliO,  p.  185. 


THE  DIES  IR.E.  145 

Brilder,  where  four  impious  brothers  enter  a  church  to  ridicule 
reb'gion,  but  are  suddenly  brought  to  pause  and  repent,  by  hear- 
ing this  judgment  hymn. 

Dr.  Johnson,  with  his  coarse,  yet  noble  and  manful  nature, 
could  never  repeat,  without  bursting  into  a  flood  of  tears,  the 
stanza  ending — 

"  Tantiis  labor  non  sit  ccissus.^^ 

The  Earl  of  Roscommon,  ^'  not  more  learned  than  good,'^  in 
the  moment  in  which  he  expired,  uttered  with  the  most  fervent 
devotion  two  lines  of  his  own  version  : — 

' '  My  Grod,  my  Father,  and  my  Friend, 
Do  not  forsake  me  in  my  end  ! ' ' 

Sir  Walter  Scott  happily  reproduced  some  stanzas  of  the  Dies 
Irjg  in  English,  and,  following  the  example  of  Goethe,  inserted 
them  in  the  sixth  canto  of  his  "  Lay  of  the  Last  Minstrel/^  On 
his  dying  bed,  when  the  strength  of  his  body  and  mind  was 
failing,  he  was  distinctly  overheard  repeating  portions  of  the 
Latin  original.  In  a  letter  to  Crabbe,  he  remarks:  ^^To  my 
Gothic  ear,  the  Stabat  Mater,  the  Dies  Ie^,  and  some  of  the 
other  hymns  of  the  Catholic  Church,  are  more  solemn  and 
affecting  than  the  fine  classical  poetry  of  Buchanan ;  the  one  has 
the  gloomy  dignity  of  a  Gothic  church,  and  reminds  us  con- 
stantly of  the  worship  to  which  it  is  dedicated  ;  the  other  is  more 
like  a  pagan  temple,  recalling  to  our  memory  the  classical  and 
fabulous  deities.'^ 

The  Dies  Ir.e  has  also  given  rise  to  some  of  the  greatest 
musical  compositions  of  Palestrina,  Durante,  Pergolese,  Haydn, 
Vogler,  Winter,  Cherubini,  Gottfried  Weber,  Neukomm,  and  of 
Mozart,  in  his  famous  Requiem,  during  the  composition  of  which 
he  died  (1791). 

ORIGIN  AND  HISTORY 

The  author  of  the  Dies  Ir.e  was  unconcerned  about  his  fame, 
and  probably  unconscious  of  the  merits  of  the  poem,  as  he  cer- 
tainly was  of  its  unparalleled  success.  Like  the  cathedral 
builders,  he  wished  to  be  unknown,  feeling  that  God  alone  is  great, 
and  that  Jiian  is  nothing.  He  wrote  the  poem  from  a  sort  of 
10 


146  THE  DIES  IR JE. 

inward  necessity  and  under  the  power  of  an  inspiration  which 
prompts  every  great  work  of  genius.  His  object  was  to  excite 
himself  to  repentance  and  faith  by  a  description  of  the  terrors 
of  the  judgment  day.  The  poem  emanated  from  a  subjective 
state  of  mind,  probably  without  any  regard  to  public  use,  but 
was  soon  found  to  be  admirably  adapted  for  divine  worship  on 
solemn  occasions,  especially  the  day  for  the  commemoration  of 
the  departed.  The  deepest  subjectivity  in  lyric  poetry  often 
proves  to  be  the  highest  order  of  objectivity.  The  same  may 
be  said  of  the  hymns  of  Paul  Gerhardt  and  of  many  Moravian 
hymns. 

The  authorship  of  Dies  Ir^  cannot  be  determined  with 
absolute  certainty.  It  became  early  a  subject  of  dispute  between 
rival  monastic  orders.  There  is  no  positive  evidence  to  decide 
the  question,  but  the  probability  is  in  favor  of  Thomas  a 
Celano,  so  called  from  his  native  little  town  Celano,  in  Abruzzo 
Ulteriore,  in  Italy,  on  the  Adriatic.  He  was  an  intimate  friend 
and  the  first  biographer  of  St.  Francis  of  Assisi,^  Superior  of 
the  Franciscan  Convents  at  Cologne,  Mayence,  Worms  and 
Speier,  and  died,  after  his  return  to  Italy,  about  A.  d.  1255. 

The  very  first  notice  of  the  poem,  which,  however,  is  one 
hundred  and  thirty  years  later  than  the  age  of  the  supposed 
author,  ascribes  it  to  Thomas.  This  notice  is  found  in  a  super- 
stitious book  entitled.  Liber  Conformitatum,  written  in  1385  by 
a  Franciscan  monk,  Bartholomseus  Albizzi,  of  Pisa  (died  1401), 
in  which  he  tries  to  show,  by  forty  points  of  comparison,  that 
St.  Francis  of  Assisi  became  completely  conformed  to  our  Saviour, 
especially  by  the  impression  of  the  five  stigmata  on  his  body.^ 

Here  he  speaks  incidentally  of  brother  Thomas  of  Celano  in 
this  way :  "Locum  habet  Celani  de  quo  fuit  frater  Thomas,  qui 

^  His  biography  of  St.  Francis,  known  under  the  name  of  Lcgenda  Aniiqua, 
is  published  in  the  Acta  Sanciorum  for  October,  torn.  ii.  Mohnike  (7.  e.  p.  30) 
is  in  error  on  this  point,  when  he  says  that  it  was  never  printed.  It  is  called 
Lcgenda  Antiqua,  to  distinguish  it  from  the  Lcgenda  Major  of  Bonaveutura,  a 
later  and  fuller  biography  of  St.  Francis. 

2  On  this  book  and  the  stigmatization  miracle,  compare  an  interesting  essay 
of  Tholuck  on  the  Miracles  of  the  Catholic  Church,  in  his  3nsceUanic.%  vol.  i., 
p.  97  sqq. ;  also  the  biographies  of  St.  Francis  by  Hase  (1856),  Mrs.  Oliphant 
(1870),  Cherance  (1879),  and  Bernardin  (1880). 


TPIE  DIES  IR.E.  147 

mandato  Apostolico  [/.e.,  by  order  of  Pope  Gregory  IX.]  scripsit 
sermone  polito  legendam  primam  heatl  Francisci,  et  prosam  de 

MORTUIS   QU.E   CAXTATUR  IX  MISSA  '  DiES  IR.e/  ETC.,  DICITUR 

FECISSE."  This  passage  proves  only  the  existence  of  a  tradition 
in  favor  of  the  authorship  of  Thomas  and  the  use  of  the  Dies 
Ir.e  in  the  mass  toward  the  close  of  the  fourteenth  century. 

The  learned  and  laborious  Irish  historian  of  the  Franciscans, 
Lucas  Wadding  (born  1580,  died  1657),  in  his  two  works, 
Annates  Mlnorum  (1625-1654),  and  Scriptorcs  Ordinis  Minorum 
(1650),  defends  the  tradition,  though  without  positive  proof,  and 
ascribes  to  Thomas  two  other  hymns,  both  in  honor  of  St.  Fran- 
cis.-^ He  was  followed  by  Rambach,  Mohnike,  Finke,  Lisco, 
Daniel,  Mone,  Koch,  Palmer,  Trench,  W.  R.  Williams,  Coles, 
and  nearly  all  the  modern  writers  on  the  subject.  Mohnike, 
after  a  careful  examination  of  tjie  question  of  authorship,  arrives 
at  the  conclusion  (/.  c,  p.  31):  ^'Thomas  of  Celano  must  be 
regarded  as  the  author  of  the  Dies  Ir^e  until — which  can 
scarcely  be  expected — it  can  be  irrefragably  proven  that  another 
composed  it." 

There  is  no  doubt  that  his  claims  are  much  stronger  than 
those  of  any  other  to  whom  the  rivalry  of  monastic  orders  or  the 
conjecture  of  critics  has  ascribed  the  authorship — viz.,  Gregory 
the  Great  (died  604),  St.  Bernard  (died  1153),  St.  Bonaventura 
(died  1274),  Latinus  Frangipani,  also  called  Malabranca,  a 
Dominican  (died  1296),  Thurston,  Archbishop  of  York  (died 
1140),  Felix  Htimmerlin,  or  Malleolus,  of  Zurich  (1389  to 
1457). 

The  extraordinary  religious  fervor  and  devotion  which  char- 
acterize the  early  history  of  the  Franciscan  order,  may  be 
considered  as  an  argument  of  internal  probability  for  the  author- 
ship of  Thomas  of  Celano.  The  other  two  hymns  ascribed  to 
him,  though  far  inferior  in  merit,  are  by  no  means  destitute  of 
poetic  talent.     Many  a  poet  has  risen  once,  under  the  power 

^  The  one  commencing  ^^Frcgit  victor  virtualis,^^  the  other,  ^^Sanciifatis  nova 
sigtia.^^  Wadding  supposed  that  these  poems  were  lost;  but  the  first  was 
printed  in  one  of  the  earlier  Paris  Missals,  the  other  in  the  Acta  Sanctorum 
for  Oct.  2,  p.  301.  See  both  in  Daniel's  Thes.  Hymnol.,  torn,  v.,  p.  314,  317. 
Comp.  Trench's  Sacred  Latin  Poetry,  p.  295  (2d  ed.). 


148  THE  DIES  IR^. 

of  inspiration,  far  above  the  level  of  his  ordinary  works.  St. 
Francis  himself  had  a  poetic  nature.  Another  Franciscan  monk, 
Jacopone,  who  died  half  a  century  after  Thomas,  is  the  reputed 
autlior  of  the  Stabat  Mater,  which  stands  next  to  the  Dies 
Ir^  in  the  whole  range  of  Latin  hymnology.  Thus  we  are 
indebted,  in  all  probability,  to  the  Franciscan  order  for  the  most 
sublime,  as  well  as  for  the  most  pathetic  hymn  of  the  middle 
ages. 

Mone^  has  suggested  the  idea  that  the  Dies  iRiE  arose  not,  as 
heretofore  supposed,  from  the  individual  contemplation  of  a 
monk  in  his  lonely  cell,  but  was  intended  for  the  funeral  service 
of  the  Church,  and  inspired  by  older  judgment  hymns  in  public 
use.  In  one  of  these,  which  he  found  in  a  MS.  at  Reichenau 
from  the  twelfth  or  thirteenth  century,  the  passage  occurs : — 

'''' Lacrymosa  dies  ilia, 
Qua  rcsurgens  exfamlla 
Homo  reus  judicandus.^^ 

The  closing  suspirium  and  prayer  for  the  departed, 

'"''PieJesu^  Domine, 
Dona  els  requiem^^^ 

is  likewise  found  in  older  hymns  and  missals.  Mone  conjectures 
that  the  author  of  Dies  Ir^e  himself  appended  these  closing 
lines  to  his  poem.  Daniel^  and  Philip  Wackernagel*  are  dis- 
posed to  adopt  his  view.  But  it  seems  to  me  much  more  probable, 
as  already  remarked,  that  the  original  poem  closed  with  ^'Gere 
curam  mei  Jinis/^  and  that  the  remaining  six  lines,  with  their 
different  versification  and  the  change  from  the  first  person  to  the 
third  ('7ii62c"  and  "eis^'),  were  added  from  older  sources  by  the 
compilers  of  mediaeval  missals.  Then  we  have  a  perfectly  uni- 
form production,  free  from  any  allusion  to  Purgatory. 

The  poem  cannot  be  traced  beyond  the  thirteenth  century.^ 
In  the  second  half  of  the  fourteenth  it  was  in  public  use  in  Italy. 

1  Lateinische  Ili/mneii  dcs  llificlaUcrs,  1853,  vol.  i.,  p.  408, 

2  Tom.  v.,  p.  110. 

^  Das  Dcnf.sche  Kirchcnlicd  von  dcr  aUcsten  Zcit,  etc.,  vol.  i.,  p.  138. 
*  Daniel  (ii. ,  p.  113)  :   ^^  Ij)sius  nimirum  carminis  natura  indicate  illud  multo 
marjis  post  quam  ante  Thomai  Celancnsis  xtatem  in  lucon  prodiissc.''^ 


THE  DIES  IR^.  149 

From  the  land  of  its  birth  it  gradually  passed  into  the  church 
service  of  other  countries,  scattering  along  its  track  "  the  luminous 
footprints  of  its  victorious  progress  as  the  subduer  of  hearts." 

DIFFERENT  TEXTS. 

The  question  as  to  the  best  text  of  the  Dies  Ir^  must  be  de- 
cided in  favor  of  the  received  text  which  is  found  in  the  Mis- 
sals. But  it  has  probably  undergone  several  slight  modifications 
before  it  assumed  its  present  authorized  shape.  We  have  besides 
two  texts  which  differ  from  the  received,  not  only  by  a  number 
of  verbal  variations,  but  also  in  length. 

One  of  these  texts  is  said  to  be  inscribed  on  a  marble  slab  of 
the  Church  of  St.  Francis  of  Assisi  at  Mantua,  and  opens  with 
the  following  four  stanzas,  which  serve  as  an  introduction  and 
give  the  poem  the  aspect  of  a  solitary  devotional  meditation  : — 

1.  "  Cogita  {Quseso),  anima fidells,       1.  ''Weigh  with  solemn  thought  and  tender, 

Ad  quid  resjiondere  velis  AVhat  response,  thou,  soul,  wilt  render 

Christo  venturo  de  ccelis,  Then,  when  Christ  shall  come  in  splendor, 

2.  Quum  deposcet  rationem  2.      And  thy  life  shall  be  inspected, 
Oh  honi  omissionem,  All  its  hidden  guilt  detected, 
Ob  mail  commissionem.  Evil  done  and  good  neglected. 

3.  Dies  ilia,  dies  irse,  3.      For  that  day  of  vengeance  neareth : 
Quam  conemur  jyrsevenire,  Ready  be  each  one  that  heareth, 
Obviamque  Deo  irse,                                   God  to  meet  when  He  appeareth, 

4.  Seria  contritione,  4.      By  repenting,  by  believing, 
Gratise  apprehensione,  By  God's  offered  grace  receiving, 
Vitse  emendatione."  By  all  evil  courses  leaving." 

Then  follows  the  "Dies  irse,  dies  ilia,''  as  we  now  have  it 
from  the  first  to  the  sixteenth  stanza,  ending  with, 

"  T oca  7ne  cum  henedictis.''^ 

Instead  of  the  eighteenth  stanza  and  the  last  six  lines,  the 
Mantua  text  offers  this  concluding  stanza : — 

"  Consors  nt  hentitntis  "That  in  fellowship  fraternal 

Vivam  cum  justijieatis  AVith  inhabitants  supernal 

In  sevum  seternitatis.     Amen  !"  I  may  live  the  life  eternal.     Amen  !" 

Dr.  Mohnike,  of  Stralsund,  who  published  this  text  (I.  c,  p. 
45-47)  in  1824,  as  he  supposed,  for  the  first  time,  from  a  manu- 


150  THE  DIES  IR^. 

script  copy  made  in  the  seventeenth  century  by  Charisius,  burgo- 
master of  Stralsund  (1676),  regards  it  as  the  original  form  of 
the  hymn,  or  at  least  as  coming  nearest  to  it.^  This  conjecture 
derives  some  support  from  the  fact  that  other  hymns  were 
abridged  or  altered  for  the  Missal  and  the  Breviary  (e.  g., 
St.  Bernard's  ""^  Jesu  dulcis  memoria^^)?  But  this  consideration 
is  overruled  by  the  questionable  date  of  the  Mantua  inscrip- 
tion, as  compared  with  the  present  text,  which  was  already  men- 
tioned in  1385,  and  by  the  evident  inferiority  of  the  introductory 
stanzas,  which  are  flat  and  prosy  compared  with  the  rest.  There 
could  be  no  more  startling  and  majestic  opening  than  the  ancient 
Scripture  words,  ^^ Dies  irce,  dies  ilia.''  The  Stabat  Mater, 
likewise,  opens  with  a  Scripture  sentence. 

The  second  rival  of  the  received  text  is  found  amono^  the 
poems  of  Felix  Hiimmerlin  (Malleolus)  of  Zurich,  a  distinguished 
ecclesiastic  of  his  age,  a  member  of  the  Councils  of  Constance  and 
Basel,  and  a  reformer  of  various  abuses,  who  ended  his  life  (a.d. 
1457)  in  the  prison  of  the  Franciscan  convent  at  Lucerne. 
Among  several  poems  which  he  composed  in  prison  was  found  a 
Dies  Irce,  which  was  published  from  the  manuscripts  of  the  pub- 
lic library  of  Zurich,  by  Leonhard  Meister,  also  by  Mohnike  (p. 
39-42),  and  Lisco  (ii.  103-105).  It  opens  like  the  received  text, 
which  it  presents  with  some  verbal  variations  till  stanza  17th 
(inclusive),  and  then  adds  the  following  seven  stanzas,  which  we 
give  with  the  translation  of  Dr.  Coles  (p.  xviii.) : — 

18.  " Lacrymosa  die  ilia,  18.  ''On  that  day  of  woe  and  weeping 

Quum  resurget  ex  favilla,  When,  like  fire  from  spark  upleaping, 

Tamquum  ic/nis  ex  scintilla,  Starts,  from  ashes  where  he's  sleeping, 

^  Charisius,  however,  copied  his  text  not  directly  from  the  original  at 
Mantua,  but,  as  Daniel  shows  (ii.  118),  from  the  Florilcgium  Mafjmim,  pub- 
lished at  Frankfort-on-the-Main,  1621,  p.  1862,  without  any  allusion  to  the 
Mantua  inscription.  This  work  reads  in  the  first  line  Quivso  for  Cogita. 
Lisco  (i.  89),  Williams  {Miscellanies^  p.  80),  and  Coles  {I.  c.,  p.  xiv.)  adopt  the 
conjecture  of  Mohnike. 

^  The  Roman  Breviary  deals  very  freely  with  original  texts.  Protestant 
hymnology  likewise  furnishes  some  examples  of  appropriating  a  part  only  of 
a  longer  poem  and  omitting  the  first  stanzas,  e.g.  Keble's  evening  hymn: 
"Sun  of  my  soul,  my  Saviour  dear,"  and  Meta  Heusser's  Easter  hymn: 
^^  Lamm  das  gelitten,  mid  Lowe  der  sicgreich  gcrungen,^'' — both  great  favorites, 
though  not  intended  for  hymns  by  the  authors. 


THE  DIES  lE.E. 


161 


19.  Judicandus  homo  rcjis  ; 
Iluic  ergo  parce,  Dciis, 
Esto  semper  adjutor  mens  ! 

20.  Quando  coeli.  aunt  movendi, 
Dies  adsunt  tunc  tremendt, 
Nullum  tempus  paenitendi. 

21.  Sed  salvatis  Isefa  dies, 
Et  dainnatia  nulla  quies, 
Sed  dsemonum  cffi(jics. 

22.  0  tu  Deus  majestatis, 
Alme  candor  Trinitatts, 
Nunc  conjunge  cum  heatis. 

23.  Vitam  meam  fac  felicem , 
Propter  tuam  genetricem, 
Jesse  Jiorem  et  radicem. 

21.       PrsBHta  nobis  tunc  levamen, 
Dulce  nostrum  fac  certamen, 
Ut  clamemus  omnes  Amen." 


19.  Man,  account  to  Thee  to  render; 
Spare  the  miserable  offender, 
Be  my  Helper  and  Defender  ! 

20.  AYhen  the  heavens  away  are  flyintr, 
Days  of  trembling  then  and  crying, 
For  repentance  time  denying; 

21.  To  the  saved  a  day  of  gladness, 
To  the  damned  a  day  of  sadness, 
Demon  forms  and  shapes  of  madues: 

22.  God  of  infinite  perfection. 
Trinity's  serene  reflection. 
Give  me  part  with  the  election  ! 

23.  Happiness  upon  me  shower. 

For  Thy  Mother's  sake,  with  power, 
Who  is  Jesse's  root  and  flower. 

24.  From  Thy  fulness  comfort  pour  us. 
Fight  Thou  with  us  or  fight  for  us. 
So  we'll  shout.  Amen,  in  chorus." 


Every  reader  must  feel  at  once  that  these  additions  are  but 
weak  repetitions  of  the  former  verses.  They  are  disfigured, 
moreover  (ver.  23),  by  Mariolatry,  of  which  the  original  is  en- 
tirely free. 

A  POLITICAL  PERVERSION. 

The  Dies  Irae  did  not  escape  profanation.  Some  Roman 
priest,  about  the  year  1700,  gratified  his  hatred  of  Protestantism 
by  perverting  this  judgment  hymn  into  a  false  prophecy  of  the 
downfall  of  the  Reformed  religion  in  Holland  and  England, 
which  he  hoped  from  the  restoration  of  the  Stuarts  and  the  union 
of  the  French  and  Spanish  crowns  in  the  Bourbon  family.  Here 
are  a  few  specimens  of  this  wretched  parody  as  quoted  by  Guh- 
rauer,  Lisco  and  Daniel :  ^ 

' '  Dies  irae^  dies  ilia, 
Solvet  foedus  infavilla, 
Teste  Tago,  Scaldi,  Scylla. 

^  Lisco  (p.  Ill  sqq.)  gives  also  Guhrauer's  German  translation,  which 
begins  : — 

^^Jcncr  Tag,  dcr  Tag  dcr  We/icn, 
Lclsst  den  Bund  in  Nichts  vergchen, 
Tajo,  Schclde  wcrdcn^s  schcn.''^ 


152  THE  DIES  IR^. 

Quantus  tremor  est  faturus^ 
Dum  Plnlippiis  est  venturus, 
Has  Paliides  aggressurus  ! 

Hie  Rex  ergo  cum  sedehit, 
Verajides  refidgehit^ 
Nil  Calvhio  remanehit. 

Quid  Slim  miser  tunc  dicturus, 
Quem  Patronum  rogaturus, 
Quum  nee  Aaglus  sit  securvsf 

3Iagne  Rector  liliorum^  ^ 
Amor,  timor  popidorum, 
Puree  terris  Batavorum. 

Preces  mece  non  sunt  digncje, 
Sed,  Rex  magne,  fac  henigne, 
Ne  homhorum  cremer  igne. 

Covfutatis  Cahi  hrutis, 
Patre,  nato,  restitutis,'^ 
Redde  mihi  spem  salutis  ! 

Oro  supplex  et  accUnis 
Calvinismus  fiat  cinis, 
Laerymarum  ut  sit  finis  P^ 


TRANSLATIONS  OF  THE  DIES  IR^. 

No  poem  has  so  often  challenged  and  defied  the  skill  of 
translators  and  imitators  as  the  Dies  Ir^.  A  collection  of  the 
English  and  German  translations  alone  would  fill  a  respectable 
volume.  The  dictionary  of  rhyme  has  been  nearly  exhausted 
upon  it,  and  every  new  attempt  must  of  necessity  present  points 
of  resemblance  to  former  versions. 

But  the  very  fact  that  it  is  untranslatable  will  ever  call  forth 
new  attempts.  The  large  number  of  translations  proves  that 
none  comes  fully  up  to  the  original.  Its  music,  majesty  and 
grandeur  can    be   only   imperfectly   rendered.     "  Its   apparent 

^  Louis  XIV.  J  of  France,  in  allusion  to  the  lilies  on  his  armorial  shield. 
2  James  II.,  of  England,  and  his  son,  the  Prince  of  Wales,  expelled  in  1G88 
by  Parliament  and  the  Protestant  William  of  Orange. 


THE  DIES  IR^.  153 

artlessness  and  simplicity  indicate  that  it  can  be  turned  readily 
into  another  language,  but  its  secret  power  refuses  to  be  thus 
transferred."  ^'  The  song  of  Thomas,"  says  Daniel,^  ''  is  not 
only  in  words  but  in  spirit  intensely  Latin  and  uncongenial  to 
any  other  language."  He  finds  the  chief  difficulty  in  repro- 
ducing the  vowel  assonances  which  constitute  the  musical  power 
and  effect  of  the  original. 

By  far  the  greatest  number  of  translations  are  German 
and  English. 

Mohnike  gives,  in  full  or  in  part,  24  German  versions  made 
prior  to  1824,  and  added  21  more  in  1832.  Lisco,  in  his  mono- 
graph on  the  Dies  Tree,  1840,  increased  the  number  to  54,  ex- 
clusive of  incomplete  versions.  In  a  subsequent  monograph  on 
the  Stahat  Mater,  1843,  he  republished  in  full,  in  three  parallel 
columns,  53  German  versions  of  the  Stahat  Mater  Dolorosa, 
and,  in  an  appendix,  17  additional  versions  of  the  Dies  Ir^. 
This  w^ould  make  in  all  71  German  translations  before  the 
year  1843.  But  this  list  has  since  considerably  increased,  so 
that  the  whole  number  of  German  translations  now  existing 
cannot  fall  short  of  eighty,  if  not  a  hundred.  Some  eminent 
poets,  as  Herder,  A.  ^y.  von  Schlegel,  and  Albert  Knapp,  are 
among  the  German  translators  of  the  Dies  Irm. 

Larger  in  number,  and  equal  or  superior  in  merit,  are  the 
English  versions.  I  counted  over  a  hundred  and  fifty .^  They  are 
mostly  of  recent  date.  The  English  language,  by  its  solemnity, 
music  and  force,  is  admirably  adapted  for  the  Dies  Ir^,  not- 
withstanding its  comparative  poverty  in  double  rhymes.  The 
oldest  translation  was  made  in  1621  by  Joshua  Sylvester,  in  10 
stanzas  of  6  lines  each.  Then  followed,  in  1646,  the  free  and 
vigorous  reproduction  of  Crashaw,  an  Anglican  clergyman  of 
poetic  genius,  who  from  the  school  of  Archbishop  Laud  went 
over  to  the  Roman  Church.  The  Earl  of  Roscommon  (1633- 
1684),  a  nephew  of  the  famous  Earl  of  Strafford,  and  the  only 
virtuous  popular  poet  in  the  licentious  age  of  the  Restoration,  a 
poet, 

"To  whom  the  wit  of  Greece  and  Rome  was  known, 
And  every  author's  merit  but  his  own," 

^  Thes.  IlymnoL,  ii.,  121.  ^  gg^  the  list  at  the  close  of  the  essay. 


154  THE  DIES  IR^. 

made  a  more  faithful  version,  in  iambic  triplets.  In  the  present 
century  Sir  Walter  Scott,  by  his  partial,  but  most  happy  repro- 
duction, awakened  a  new  literary  interest  in  the  poem,  to  which 
we  owe  the  easy  and  elegant  version  of  Lord  Macaulay  from 
the  year  1826.  High  dignitaries  and  eminent  divines  of  the 
Church  of  England,  as  Archbishop  Trench  and  Dean  Alford, 
adhered  more  closely  to  the  original.  Several  members  of  the 
Anglo-Catholic  school  of  Oxford,  Isaac  Williams,  W.  J.  Irons, 
and  E.  Caswall  (the  last  seceded  to  Home)  furnished  excellent 
translations. 

In  America,  ministers  and  laymen  of  various  denomina- 
tions have  taken  part  in  this  rivalry  and  nearly  or  fully  doubled 
the  number  of  English  translations.  Among  them  are  Dr. 
W.  R.  Williams  (Baptist),  Dr.  H.  Mills  (Presbyterian),  Dr. 
Robert  Davidson  (Presbyterian),  Charles  Rockwell,  Edward 
Slosson,  Epes  Sargent,  Erastus  C.  Benedict  (Dutch  Reformed), 
General  John  A.  Dix  (Episcopalian),  Thomas  C.  Porter  (Ger- 
man Reformed),  Dr.  Ch.  P.  Krauth  (Lutheran),  Samuel  W. 
Duffield  (Presbyterian),  Dr.  Franklin  Johnson  (Baptist),  Dr.  W. 
S.  McKenzie  (Baptist),  Rev.  A.  H.  Fahnestock  (Presbyterian). 

The  palm  among  American  translators  must  be  awarded  to 
a  physician,  Abraham  Coles,  of  Scotch  Plains,  New  Jersey.  He 
prepared,  between  1847  and  1859,  thirteen  versions,  six  of  which 
are  in  the  trochaic  measure  and  double  rhyme  of  the  original,  five 
in  the  same  rhythm,  but  in  single  rhyme,  one  in  iambic  triplets, 
like  Roscommon's,  the  last  in  quatrains,  like  Crashaw's  version. 
The  first  two  appeared  anonymously  in  the  Newark  Daily 
Advertise!',  1847,  and  a  part  of  one  found  its  way  into  Mrs. 
Stowe's  Uncle  Tom^s  Cabin,  the  other  into  H.  W.  Beecher's 
Plymouth  Collection  of  Hymns  and  Tunes.  The  thirteen  versions 
were  published  together  with  an  introduction  in  a  beautiful 
volume,  in  antique  type,  on  tinted  paper.  New  York  (Appletons), 
1866.  He  has  since  published  three  additional  versions  in 
double  rhyme.  New  York,  1881  {''  The  Microcosm  and  other 
Poems'^).  In  August,  1889,  he  made  one  more  version  in 
single  rhyme  and  four  lines.  These  seventeen  versions  show  a 
rare  fertility  and  versatility,  and  illustrate  the  possibilities  of 
variation  without  altering  the  sense. 


THE  DIES  IR.E. 


155 


EXGLISII   YERSIOXS. 

Of  those  translations  I  select  some  of  the  best  in  double  and 
in  single  rhyme.     Of  others  I  can  only  give  one  or  more  stanzas. 


f  William  Josiah  Irons,  d.d.  (died  1883). 
Firat puhlhlied  on  ajljj  sheet,  1848. 

1.  Day  of  Wrath  !  0  Day  of  mourninsr ! 
See  !  once  more  the  Cross  returning; — ^ 
Heav'n  and  earth  in  ashes  burning  ! 

2.  0  what  fear  man's  bosom  rendeth, 
When    from    heav'n    the    Judge    de- 

scendeth, 
On  whose  sentence  all  dependeth  ! 

3.  Wondrous  sound  the  Trumpet  flingeth, 
Through  earth's  sepulchres  it  ringeth, 
All  before  the  throne  it  bringeth  ! 


4.  Death   is  struck,  and   Nature  quak- 

ing- 
All  creation  is  awaking. 
To  its  Judge  an  answer  making ! 

5.  Lo,  the  Book,  exactly  worded, 
Wherein  all  hath  been  recorded; — 
Thence  shall  judgment  be  awarded. 


"^^  Abraham  Coles,  m.d.  (Xo.  1.) 
First  pnblifihed  1847. 

1.  Day  of  wrath,  that  day  of  burning, 
Seer  and  Sibyl  speak  concerning, 
All  the  world  to  ashes  turning. 2 

2.  Oh,  what  fear  shall  it  engender. 
When  the  Judge  shall  come  in  splen- 
dor. 

Strict  to  mark  and  just  to  render  ! 

3.  Trumpet,  scattering  sounds  of  won- 

der, ^.. 

Rending  sepulchres  asunder. 
Shall  resistless  summons  thunder. 

4.  All  aghast  then  Death  shall  shiver. 
And     great     Nature's     frame     shall 

quiver, 
When  the  graves  their  dead  deliver. 

5.  Book,  where  actions  are  recorded 
All  the  ages  have  afforded, 

Shall  be  brousht  and  dooms  awarded. 


6.  When  the  Judge  His  seat  attaineth, 
And  each  hidden  deed  arraigneth, 
Nothing  unaveng'd  remaineth. 

7.  What  shall  I,  frail  man,  be  pleading  ? 
Who  for  me  be  interceding  ? — 
When  the  just  are  mercy  needing. 

8.  King  of  majesty  tremendous, 
Who  dost  free  salvation  send  us. 
Fount  of  pity  !  then  befriend  us  ! 


6.  When  shall  sit  the  Judge  unerring. 
He'll  unfold  all  here  occurring. 

No  just  vengeance  then  deferring. 

7.  What  shall  I  say,  that  time  pending. 
Ask  what  advocate's  befriending, 
When  the  just  man  needs  defending  ? 

8.  Dreadful  King,  all  power  possessing. 
Saving  freely  those  confessing, 
Save  Thou  me,  0  Fount  of  Blessing! 


1  Dr.  Irons,  like  Dean  Alford,  follows  the  reading  of  the  Parisian  Missal, 

^'Dies  irae,  dies  ilia, 
Crucis  expandens  vexilla, 
Solvet  sxclum  in  favilla. ' ' 

2  I  prefer  the  original  form  of  this  stanza  as  it  appeared  in  the  Newark 
Daily  Advertiser  for  March  17,  1847  : — 

*'  Day  of  wrath,  that  day  of  burning, 
All  shall  melt,  to  ashes  turning, 
As  foretold  by  seers  discerning. ' ' 


156 


THE  DIES  IR^. 


Think,  kind  Jesu' — my  salvation 
Caus'd  Thy  wondrous  Incarnation ; 
Leave  me  not  to  reprobation  ! 


9.  Think,  0  Jesus,  for  what  reason 
Thou    didst   bear   earth's   spite   and 

treason, 
Nor  me  lose  in  that  dread  season  ! 


10.  Faint  and  weary  Thou  hast  sought  me,    10.  Seeking  me  Thy  worn  feet  hasted, 
On  the  Cross  of  suffering  bought  me  : —  On  the  cross  Thy  soul  death  tasted  : 

Shall  such  grace  be  vainly  brought  me  ?  Let  such  travail  not  be  wasted  ! 


11.  Righteous  Judge  of  retribution, 
Grant  Thy  gift  of  absolution, 

Ere  that  reckoning-day's  conclusion  ! 

12.  Guilty,  now  I  pour  my  moaning, 
All  my  shame  with  anguish  owning; 
Spare,  0  God,  Thy  suppliant  groaning  ! 

13.  Thou  the  sinful  woman  savest; 
Thou  the  d3nng  thief  forgavest, 
And  to  me  a  hope  vouchsafest. 

14.  Worthless  are  my  prayers  and  sighing. 
Yet,  good  Lord,  in  grace  complying. 
Rescue  me  from  fires  undying  ! 

15.  With  Thy  favor'd  sheep,  0  place  me  ! 
Nor  among  the  goats  abase  me; 
But  to  Thy  right  hand  upraise  me. 

16.  While  the  wicked  are  confounded, 
Doom'd  to  flames  of  woe  unbounded, 
Call  me,  with  Thy  saints  surrounded. 

17.  Low  I  kneel,  with  heart-submission; 
See,  like  ashes,  my  contrition  — 
Help  me  in  my  last  condition  ! 

18.  Ah  !  that  Day  of  tears  and  mourning! 
From  the  dust  of  earth  returning, 
Man     for    judgment    must    prepare 

him; — 
Spare !  0  God,  in  mercy  spare  him  I 
Lord,  Who  didst  our  souls  redeem. 
Grant  a  blessed  requiem  !    Amen." 


11.  Righteous  Judge  of  retribution! 
Make  me  gift  of  absolution 
Ere  that  day  of  execution  ! 

12.  Culprit-like,  I  plead,  heart-broken, 
Ou  my  cheek  shame's  crimson  token : 
Let  the  pardoning  word  be  spoken  I 

13.  Thou,  who  Mary  gav'st  remission, 
Ileard'st  the  dying  Thief's  petition, 
Cheer'st  with  hope  my  lost  condition. 

14.  Though  my  prayers  be  void  of  merit, 
What  is  needful,  Thou  confer  it, 
Lest  I  endless  fire  inherit! 

15.  Be  there.  Lord,  my  place  decided, 
With  Thy  sheep,  from  goats  divided 
Kindly  to  Thy  right  hand  guided  ! 

16.  When  th'  accursed  away  are  driven, 
To  eternal  burnings  given. 

Call  me  with  the  blessed  to  heaven  ! 

17.  I  beseech  Thee,  prostrate  lying. 
Heart  as  ashes,  contrite,  sighing, 
Care  for  me  when  I  am  dying  ! 

IS.  Day  of  tears  and  late  repentance, 
Man  shall  rise  to  hear  his  sentence  : 
Him,  the  child  of  guilt  and  error, 
Spare,  Lord,  in  that  hour  of  terror!  " 


Richard  C.  Trexch. 

Archhi-shoj)  of  Dublin  {d.  1886). 
0  that  day,  that  day  of  ire, 
Told  of  Prophet,  when  in  fire. 
Shall  a  world  dissolved  expire  ! 

0  wliat  terror  shall  be  then. 
When  the  Judge  shall  come  again. 
Strictly  searching  deeds  of  men  : 


Henry  Alford. 
Dean  of  Canterbury  [d.  1871). 

1.  Day  of  anger,  that  dread  Day 
Shall  the  Sign  in  Heaven  display, 
And  the  Earth  in  ashes  lay. 

2.  0  what  trembling  shall  appear. 
When  His  coming  shall  be  near, 
Who  shall  all  things  strictly  clear ; 


THE  DIES  IK^E. 


157 


3.  When  a  trump  of  awful  tone,  3. 
Thro'  the  caves  sei^ulehral  blown, 
Summons  all  before  the  throne. 

4.  "What  amazement  shall  o'ertake,  4, 
Nature,  when  the  dead  shall  wake, 
Answer  to  the  Judge  to  make. 

5.  Open  then  the  book  shall  lie,  5. 
All  o'erwrit  for  every  eye, 

With  a  world's  iniquity. 

6.  When  the  Judge  Ilis  place  has  ta'cn,  6. 
All  things  hid  shall  be  made  plain, 
Nothing  unavenged  remain. 

7.  What  then,  wretched  !    shall  I  speak,  7. 
Or  what  intercession  seek. 

When  the  just  man's  cause  is  weak  ? 

8.  King  of  awful  majesty,  8. 
Who  the  saved  dost  freely  free; 

Fount  of  mercy,  pity  me  ! 

9.  Jesus,  Lord,  remember,  pray,  9. 
I  the  cause  was  of  Thy  wny  : 

Do  not  lose  me  on  that  day. 

10.  Tired  Thou  satest,  seeking  me —  10. 
Crucified,  to  set  me  free; 

Let  such  pain  not  fruitless  be ! 

11.  Terrible  Avenger,  make  11. 
Of  Thy  mercy  me  partake. 

Ere  that  day  of  vengeance  wake. 

12.  As  a  criminal  I  groan,  12. 
Blushing  deep  my  faults  I  own  ; 

Grace  be  to  a  suppliant  shown. 

13.  Thou  who  Mary  didst  forgive,  13. 
And  who  bad'st  the  robber  live, 

Hope  to  me  dost  also  give. 

14.  Though  my  prayer  unworthy  be,  14. 
Yet,  0  set  me  graciously 

From  the  fire  eternal  free. 

15.  'Mid  Thy  sheep  my  place  command,  15. 
From  the  goats  far  off  to  stand  : 

Set  me.  Lord,  at  Thy  right  hand  : 

16.  And  when  them  who  scorned  Thee  here        16. 
Thou  hast  judged  to  doom  severe. 

Bid  me  with  Thy  saved  draw  near  ! 

17.  Lying  low  before  Thy  throne,  17. 
Crushed  my  heart  in  dust,  I  groan  ; 

Grace  be  to  a  suppliant  shown  ! 


When  the  Trumpet  shall  command 
Through  the  tombs  of  every  land 
All  before  the  Throne  to  stand. 

Death  shall  shrink  and  Nature  quake, 
AVhcn  all  creatures  shall  awake, 
Answer  to  their  God  to  make. 

Sec  the  Book  divinely  penned. 
In  which  all  is  found  contained, 
Whence  the  world  shall  be  arraigned  ! 

When  the  Judge  is  on  His  Throne, 
All  that's  hidden  shall  be  shown. 
Naught  unfinished  or  unknown. 

What  shall  I  before  Him  say  ? 
How  shall  I  be  safe  that  day. 
When  the  righteous  scarcely  may? 

King  of  awful  majesty, 
Saving  sinners  graciously, 
Fount  of  mercy,  save  Thou  me  ! 

Leave  me  not,  my  Saviour,  one 
For  whose  soul  Thy  course  was  run, 
Lest  I  be  that  day  undone. 

Thou  didst  toil  my  soul  to  gain; 
Didst  redeem  me  with  Thy  pain; 
Be  such  labor  not  in  vain  ! 

Thou  just  Judge  of  wrath  severe. 
Grant  my  sins  remission  here. 
Ere  Thy  reckoning  day  appear. 

My  transgressions  grievous  are. 
Scarce  look  up  for  shame  I  dare ; 
Lord,  Thy  guilty  suppliant  spare ! 

Thou  didst  heal  the  sinner's  grief. 
And  didst  hear  the  dying  thief; 
Even  I  may  hope  relief. 

All  unworthy  is  my  prayer ; 
Make  my  soul  Thy  mercy's  care, 
And  from  fire  eternal  spare ! 

Place  me  with  Thy  sheep,  that  band 

Who  shall  separated  stand 

From  the  goats,  at  Thy  right  hand  ! 

When  Thy  voice  in  wrath  shall  say. 
Cursed  ones,  depart  away  ! 
Call  me  with  the  blest,  I  pray  ! 

Lord,  Thine  ear  in  mercy  bow  ! 
Broken  is  my  heart  and  low; 
Guard  of  my  last  end  be  Thou  I 


158 


THE  DIES  IR^. 


"W.  R.  Williams,  d.d. 
(Died  in  New  York,  1SS5.)^ 

1.  Day  of  wrath  !  that  day  dismaying; 
As  the  seers  of  old  were  saying. 
All  the  world  in  ashes  laying. 

2.  What  the  fear  !  and  what  the  quaking! 
When  the  Judge  his  way  is  taking. 
Strictest  search  in  all  things  making. 

3.  When  the  trump,  with  blast  astounding, 
Through  the  tombs  of  earth  resounding, 
Bids  all  stand,  the  throne  surrounding. 

4.  Death  and  Nature  all  aghast  are. 
While  the  dead  rise  fast  and  faster. 
Answering  to  their  Judge  and  Master. 

5.  Forth  is  brought  the  record  solemn  ; 
See,  o'erwrit  in  each  dread  column, 
With  man's  deeds,  the  Doomsday  volume. 

6.  Now  the  Sovreign  Judge  is  seated; 
All,  long  hid,  is  loud  repeated; 
Naught  escapes  the  judgment  meted. 

7.  Ah  !  what  j^lea  shall  I  be  pleading  ? 
Who  for  me  be  interceding, 
When  the  just  man  help  is  needing? 

8.  Oh,  thou  King  of  awful  splendor, 
Of  salvation  free  the  Sender, 
Grace  to  me,  all  gracious,  render. 

9.  Jesus,  Lord,  my  plea  let  this  be, 
Mine  the  woe  that  brought  from  bliss 

Thee; 
On  that  day.  Lord,  wilt  Thou  miss  me  ? 

10.  Wearily  for  me  Thou  soughtest; 

On  the  cross  my  soul  Thou  boughtest; 
Lose  not  all  for  which  Thou  wroughtest! 

U 


18.  In  that  day,  that  mournful  day, 
When  to  judgment  wakes  our  clay, 
Show  me  mercy,  Lord,  I  pray  ! 

Samuel  W.  Duffield. 
(Died  in  Bloomfield,  N.  J.,  1887.) 

1.  Day  of  wrath,  thine  awful  morning 
Burns  to  ashes  earth's  adorning, 
As  the  saint  and  seer  give  warning. 

2.  Then  what  terror  of  each  nation 
When  the  Judge  shall  take  His  station. 
Strictly  trying  His  creation. 

3.  When  the  trumpet  tone  of  thunder, 
Bursting  bands  of  tombs  asunder, 
Bids  men  face  that  throne  of  wonder, 

4.  Death  and  Nature  He  surprises, 
Who,  a  creature,  yet  arises 
Unto  those  most  dread  assizes. 

5.  There  that  written  book  remaineth 
Whose  sure  registry  containeth 
That  which  all  the  world  arraigneth. 

6.  Therefore  when  He  judgeth  rightly 
We  shall  view  each  act  unsightly  : 
Nothing  shall  be  pardoned  lightly. 

7.  With  what  answer  shall  I  meet  Him, 
By  what  advocate  entreat  Him, 
When  the  just  may  scarcely  greetHim? 

8.  King  of  mightiest  coronation. 
Some  through   grace  gain  approba- 
tion— 

Save  me,  source  of  all  salvation ! 

9.  Hear  me,  0  Thou  Holy  Saviour, 
Brought  to  earth  through  my  beha- 
viour— 

Take  not  then  away  Thy  favour. 


10.  Seeking  me  Thy  love  outwore  Thee, 
And  the  cross,  my  ransom,  bore  Thee; 
Let  this  not  seem  liyrht  before  Thee. 


Vengeance,  Lord,  then  be  Thy  mission  :  11.  Righteous  Judgie  of  my  condition, 

iS'oic,  of  sin  grant  free  remission  Grant  me,  for  my  sins,  remission, 

Ere  that  day  of  inquisition.  Ere  the  day  which  ends  contrition. 

'  Published  in  his  3IisceUa7iics,  second  ed. ,  New  York,  1850,  p.  88-9.  The 
author  kindly  submitted  it  to  me  (in  1868),  with  a  few  improvements  (in 
verses  17  and  19),  and  the  modest  remark  :  "  The  imperfections  of  the  trans- 
lation are  excusable  only  from  its  having  preceded  the  more  finished  render- 
ing of  my  friend,  Dr.  Coles." 


THE  DIES  IK.^. 


159 


12.  Low  in  shame  before  Thee  groaning  ; 
Blushes  deep  my  sin  are  owning : 
Hear,  0  Lord,  my  suppliant  moaning 

13.  Her  of  old  that  sinned  forgiving. 
And  the  dying  thief  receiving, 
Thou,  to  me  too,  hope  art  giving. 

14.  In  my  prayer  though  sin  discerning. 
Yet,  good  Lord,  in  goodness  turning. 
Save  me  from  the  endless  burning  ! 

15.  'Mid  Thy  sheep  be  my  place  given; 
Far  the  goats  from  me  be  driven  : 
Lift,  at  Thy  right  hand,  to  heaven. 

16.  When  the  cursed  are  confounded, 
With  devouring  flame  surrounded, 
AVith  the  blest  be  mv  name  sounded. 


12.  In  my  guilt,  for  pity  yearning, 
With  my  shame  my  face  is  burning; 
Spare  me,  Lord,  to  Thee  returning ! 

13.  Thou,  once  touched  by  Mary's  crying, 
Who  didst  save  the  thief,  though  dy- 
ing, 

Gavest  hope  to  me  when  sighing. 

II.  Poorly  are  my  prayers  ascending. 
But  do  Thou  in  mercy  bending. 
Leave  me  not  to  flames  unending. 

15.  Give  me  with  Thy  sheep  a  station, 
Far  from  goats  in  separation — 
On  Thy  right  my  habitation. 

16.  When  the  wicked  meet  conviction. 
Doomed  to  fires  of  sharp  affliction. 
Call  me  forth  with  benediction. 


17.  Low,  I  beg,  as  suppliant  bending  ;  17.  Now  I  pray  Thee,  naught  commend- 

With  crushed  heart,  my  life  forth  spend-  ing, 

ing ;  Flames  of  pride  to  ashes  tending  : 

Lord,  be  nigh  me  in  my  ending  1 1  Guard  me  then  when  earth  is  ending. 


18.  Ah  that  day  !  that  day  of  weepin^ 
When  in  dust  no  longer  sleeping, 
Man  to  God  in  guilt  is  going — 
Lord,  be  then  Thy  mercy  showing 


IS.  0  that  day  so  full  of  weeping. 
When,  in  dust  no  longer  sleeping, 
Man  must  face  his  worst  behaviour; 
Therefore,  spare  me,  God  and  Saviour/ 


Thomas  C.  Porter,  d.d.  (18S2).2 
1.  Day  of  Wrath  !  that  awful  day 
Shall  the  world  in  ashes  lay, 
David  and  the  Sibyl  say.* 


Philip  Schaff,  d.d.  (1868).  3 
1.  Day  of  Wrath  !  that  woful  day 
Shall  the  world  in  ashes  lay ; 
David  and  Sibylla  say.* 


^  This  stanza  was  substituted  for  the  one  in  1850  : — 

"  Bowed  and  prostrate,  hear  me  crying  ; 
Heart  in  dust  before  Thee  lying, 
Lord,  my  end,  O  be  Thou  nigh  in  !  " 

2  Professor  of  Biology  in  Lafayette  College,  Easton,  Pa.  He  kindly  wrote 
to  me  July  16th,  1889:  "You  are  at  full  liberty  to  make  what  use  you 
see  fit  of  my  translation  of  the  Dies  Irss,  published  in  Tlie  Guardian,  by 
the  Reformed  Church  Board  of  Publication,  at  Philadelphia,  October,  1882." 

3  First  published  in  Hours  at  Home,  New  York,  1868,  May,  p.  39.  Sug- 
gested in  part  by  Alford  and  Caswall,  but  more  literal. 

"*  This  is  an  undesigned  coincidence  of  two  independent  translations.     In 
order  to  avoid  it,  I  would  substitute  a  less  literal  version  : — 
Day  of  Wrath  !  that  day  foretold 
By  the  saints  and  seers  of  old. 
Shall  the  world  in  flames  infold. 


160 


THE  DIES  IR^. 


2.  Oh  !  the  trembling  there  will  be  ! — 
Every  eye  the  Judge  shall  see, 
Come  for  strictest  scrutiny. 

3.  Loud  shall  peal  the  trumpet's  tone, 
Through  the  graves  of  every  zone, 
Forcing  all  before  the  throne'. 

4.  Death  and  Xature,  in  surprise, 
Shall  behold  the  creature  rise, 
■Summoned  to  the  grand  assize. 

5.  Now,  the  books'^  shall  be  unroUe  1, 
In  whose  volumes  manifold 

All  the  deeds  of  time  are  told. 

6.  When  His  seat  the  Judge  has  ta'en, 
Hidden  things  will  hide  in  vain — 
Nothing  unavenged  remain. 

7.  What  shall  I,  a  wretch,  then  say  ? 
Unto  what  kind  patron  pray, 
When  the  righteous  feel  dismay  ? 

8.  King  of  dreadful  majesty, 
Whose  salvation  is  so  free. 
Fount  of  pity,  save  Thou  me  ! 

9.  Jesu,  Lord,  remember,  I 
Caused  Thy  coming  down  to  die  : 
Lest  I  perish,  hear  my  cry  ! 

10.  By  Thee  weary  I  was  sought, 
By  Thy  bitter  passion  bought : 
Can  such  labor  go  for  naught? 

11.  Just  Avenger,  let  me  win 
Full  remission  of  my  sin 
Ere  the  day  of  doom  begin. 

12.  Like  a  criminal  I  groan  ; 
Blushing,  all  my  guilt  I  own  : 
Hear,  0  God  !  a  suppliant's  moan  I 

13.  Mary's  pardon  came  from  Thee, 
And  the  robber's  on  the  tree. 
Giving  also  hope  for  me. 

14.  Though  my  prayers  no  merit  earn, 
Let  Thy  favor  on  me  tuin, 

Lest  in  quenchless  fire  I  burn. 

15.  From  the  goats  my  lot  divide; 
'Midst  the  sheep,  a  ])lace  provide, 
On  Thy  right  band  justified. 


2.  What  a  trembling,  what  a  fear. 
When  the  dread  Judge  shall  appear. 
Strictly  searching  far  and  near  ! 

3.  Hark  !  the  trumpet's  wondrous  tone, 
Through  sepulchral  regions  blown. 
Summons  all  before  the  throne. 

4.  Death  shall  shiver.  Nature  quake, 
When  the  creatures  shall  awake. 
Answer  to  their  Judge  to  make. 

5.  Lo,  the  Book  of  ages  spread. 
From  which  all  the  deeds  are  read 
Of  the  living  and  the  dead. 

6.  Now  before  the  Judge  severe 
All  things  hidden  must  appear. 
Nought  shall  pass  unpunished  here. 

7.  Wretched  man,  what  shall  I  plead, 
Who  for  me  will  intercede. 
When  the  righteous  mercy  need? 

8.  King  of  awful  majesty, 
Author  of  salvation  free. 
Fount  of  pity,  save  Thou  me  I 

9.  Recollect,  good  Lord,  I  pray, 
I  have  caused  Thy  bitter  way, 
Me  forget  not  on  that  day  ! 

10.  Weary  did'st  Thou  seek  for  mo, 
Did'st  redeem  me  on  the  tree- 
Let  such  toil  not  fruitless  be  ! 

11.  Judge  of  righteousness  severe. 
Grant  me  full  remission  here 
Ere  the  reckoning  day  appear. 

12.  Sighs  and  tears  my  sorrow  speak. 
Shame  and  grief  are  on  my  cheek  : 
Mercy,  mercy,  Lord,  I  seek. 

13.  Thou  didst  Mary's  guilt  forgive, 
And  absolve  the  dying  thief: 
Even  I  may  ho])e  relief. 

14.  Worthless  are  my  prayers,  I  know; 
Yet,  0  Lord,  thy  mercy  show, 
Save  me  from  eternal  woe ! 

15.  Make  me  with  Thy  sheep  to  stand. 
Far  from  the  convicted  band. 
Placing  me  at  Thy  right  hand. 


^  Changed  to  the  plural.     See  Rev.  xx.  12. 


THE  DIES  IRiE. 


161 


16.  As  the  wicked,  clothed  in  shame, 
Pass  to  fierce  tonnenting  flaine, 
With  the  blessed  call  my  name. 


Broken-hearted,  low  I  bend  ; 
From  the  dust  my  prayer  I  send  : 
Let  Thy  mercy  crown  my  end  ! 


18.  "When,  on  that  most  tearful  do}^, 
Man,  to  judgment  waked  from  clay. 
Quails  at  Thine  uplifted  rod, 
Spare  the  guilty  one,  0  God  ! 

19.  Jesu,  Lord,  their  trials  o'er, 
Grant  them  rest  for  evermore  ! 

Amen." 


16.  When  the  damn'd  are  put  to  shame, 
Cast  into  devouring  flame, 

AVith  the  blest  then  call  my  name. 

17.  Suppliant  at  Thy  feet  I  lie. 
Contrite  in  the  dust  I  cry. 

Care  Thou  for  me  when  I  die  !  " 


IS.   [Day  of  tears  and  day  of  dread. 
When,  arising  from  the  dead. 
Guilty  man  awaits  his  doom; 
God,  have  mercy  on  his  soul ! 

19.  Gentle  Jesus,  Lord  of  grace. 
Grant  to  them  eternal  rest ! 
Amen.] 


EEV,  W.  S.  McKEXZIE,  D.  D.   (1889). 

Dr.  McKenzie,  of  Bostou,  is  the  author  of  the  following  two  translations, 
one  in  double,  the  other  in  single  rhyme,  which  were  first  published  in 
The  Beacon,  and  The  Watchman,  Boston,  1887,  and  were  kindly  placed  at 
my  disposal  in  this  final  shape  by  the  author,  August  12,  1889. 

I.  IL 

1.  The  day  of  Avrath  !     That  day  draws 
near. 

Far  back  foretold  by  Saint  and  Seer, 
That  earth  in  flames  would  disappear. 

2.  What  dread  will  seize  the  human  race! 
The  Judge  will  come  with  frowning 

face. 
And  search  out  every  hiding  place. 

3.  The  trumpet's  peal,  the  world  around. 
Will   through    sepulchral   vaults    re- 
sound. 

And  wake  the  millions  under  ground. 

4.  Then  Death  and  Nature  with  surprise 
Will  watch  the  sleeping  dead  arise. 
To  answer  in  the  grand  assize. 


1.  Day  of  wrath  and  consternation  ! 
World-wide  sweeps  that  conflagration. 
Long  foretold  by  inspiration. 

2.  Sudden  fear  on  men  is  falling  ! 
For  the  Judge,  to  judgment  calling, 
Searcheth  all  with  gaze  appalling. 


3.  Peals  the  trumpet's  blast  of  wonder; 
Bursting  every  tomb  asunder; 
Citing  all  with  voice  of  thunder. 


4.  Death  and  Xature,  awestruck,  quak- 

ing, 
See  the  sleeping  dead  awaking 
At  the  call  the  Judge  is  making. 

5.  God's  own  Book  of  registration 
Bears  impartial  attestation 

In  the  great  adjudication. 

6.  On  His  throne  the  Judge  is  dealing 
With  each  hidden  deed  and  feeling  : 
Wrath  against  all  wrong  revealing. 


11 


5.  The  Book  of  God's  recording  pen, 
Containing  deeds  and  thoughts  of  men, 
For  Judgment  will  be  opened  then. 

6.  And   when    the   Judge  ascends    His 

throne. 
All  secret  things  will  He  make  known, 
And  nought  of  wrong  will  He  condone. 


162 


THE  DIES  IR^E. 


7.  "\Yhat  defence  shall  I  be  making  ? 
Who  my  part  will  then  be  taking, 
When  the  just  with  fear  are  quaking  ? 

8.  0  thou  King  of  awful  splendor — 
Yet  a  Saviour,  loving,  tender, 
Source  of  love !  be  my  defender. 

9.  Blessed  Jesus  !  my  salvation 
Brought  Thee  down  from  exaltation  : 
Rescue  me  from  condemnation. 

10.  Worn   and  wasted  Thou  hast  sought 

me; 
With   Thy   death-pangs    Thou    hast 

bought  me ; 
Shield  the  hope  such  anguish  brought 

me. 

11.  Stay,  just  Judge,  Thine  indignation; 
Grant  me  pardon  and  salvation 

Ere  the  Judgment  proclamation. 

12.  Bowed  with  guilt,  my  soul  is  groan- 

ing; 
Guilt  my  crimsoned  face  is  owning — 
Spare,  0  God,  a  suppliant  moaning. 

13.  Mary  found  in  Thee  remission ; 
Thou  did'stheed  the  thief's  petition  : 
Grant  me  grace  in  my  contrition. 

14.  Never  can  my  prayers  commend  me; 
Graciously  do  Thou  befriend  me. 
And  from  quenchless  flames   defend 


15.  When  the  sheep  shall  be  selected, 
Severed  from  the  goats  rejected, 
Raise  me  to  Thy  right  perfected. 

16.  When  Thy  foes  in  flames  are  wailing, 
AYhere  all  cries  are  unavailing. 
Summon  me  to  joys  unfailing. 

17.  Low  before  Thee  I  am  bending ; 
Sharp  remorse  my  soul  is  rending : 
Succor  me  when  life  is  ending. 

18.  On  that  day  of  woe  and  weeping, 
When  from  dust  where  he  is  sleeping, 
Man   shall   wake   and   rise   to   meet 

Thee, 
Spare  him,  Jesus,  I  entreat  Thee. 


7.  Ah,  wretched  me  !  what  will  I  say, 
What  advocate  for  me  will  pray, 
When  saints  will  scarce  escape  that 

day  ? 

8.  Thou  King  majestic,  pity  me  ! 
Thou  savest  all  redeemed  by  Thee  : 
Thou  Fount  of  love  !  my  Saviour  be. 

9.  Remember,  holy  Christ,  I  pray. 
When  thou  didst   tread    the  doleful 

way : 
And  spare  me  in  the  Judgment  day. 

10.  With  weary  steps  Thou  soughtest  me! 
What  pangs  my  pardon  wrung  from 

Thee! 
Shall  such  keen  anguish  wasted  be  ? 


11.  0  righteous  Judge  of  future  woe. 
Forgiving  grace  on  me  bestow 
Before  to  judgment  I  must  go. 

12.  My  groans  cannot  my  guilt  erase ; 
My  crimes  I  own  with  crimsoned  face; 
My  God !  I  plead  for  pardoning  grace. 

13.  By  Magdalen  was  pardon  found; 
Tiie  dying  thief  by  Thee  was  crowned; 
To  me,  e'en  me,  lei  grace  abound. 

14.  My  tears  and  pleas  may  worthless  be; 
But  Thou,  good  Lord,  hast  wrought 

for  me; 
From  quenchless  flames  then  set  me 
free. 

15.  Among  Thy  sheep  appoint  my  place; 
Do  not  with  goats  my  name  embrace; 
But  welcome  me  before  Thy  face. 

16.  And  when  the  wicked  stand  aghast, 
To  bitter  flames  are  hurled  at  last, 
0  let  my  lot  with  saints  bo  cast. 

17.  Now  prostrate  in  the  dust  I  lie; 
In  ashes  of  repentance  sigh  : 

Be  Thou  near  me  when  death  draws 
nigh. 

18.  In  that  last  day  of  bitter  cries. 
When  from  the  dust  the  dead  shall 

rise, 
And  man  to  Judgment  must  repair. 
Then  spare  him.  Lord,  in  mercy  spare. 


THE  DIES  IR^.  163 

SpccimohH  of  other  English  Versions. 
IxICIIAEl)  Crasiiaw  (1G46). 

"  Heard' st  tliou,  my  soul,  Avhat  serious  thiuf^s 
Both  tlic  Psalm  and  Sibyl  sings 
Of  a  sure  Judge,  from  whose  sharp  ray 
The  world  in  flames  shall  fly  away  ?' ' 

Eael  of  Roscommon  (died  1684). 
"The  day  of  wrath,  that  dreadful  day. 
Shall  the  whole  world  in  ashes  lay, 
As  David  and  the  Sibyls  say. ' ' 

SiK  Waltek  Scott  (died  1832). 
A  Condensed  Reproduction  (1805). 

"That  day  of  wrath,  that  dreadful  day  ! 
When  heaven  and  earth  shall  pass  away, 
"What  power  shall  be  the  sinner's  stay? 
How  shall  he  meet  that  dreadful  day  ? 

When,  shriv'lling  like  a  parched  scroll, 
The  flaming  heavens  together  roll, 
And  louder  yet,  and  yet  more  dread. 
Swells  the  high  trump  that  wakes  the  dead. 

Oh  !  on  that  day,  that  wrathful  day. 
When  man  to  judgment  wakes  from  clay. 
Be  Thou,  0  Christ !  the  sinner's  stay, 
Though  heaven  and  earth  shall  pass  away." 

This  partial  version,  or  free  reproduction  rather,  has  found 
its  way  into  every  good  English  and  American  hymn  book, 
and  thus  has  become  much  more  popular  than  any  other  trans- 
lation. 

LOED  Macaulay. 
From  the  Christian  Observer,  1826. 

' '  On  that  great,  that  awful  day. 
This  vain  world  shall  pass  away. 
Thus  the  Sibyl  sang  of  old ; 
Thus  hath  holy  David  told. 

There  shall  be  a  deadly  fear 
When  the  Avenger  shall  appear, 
And  unveiled  before  His  eye 
All  the  works  of  men  shall  lie. ' ' 


164  THE  DIES  IR.E. 

Caxox  F.  C.  Husenbeth. 
Missal  for  the  Laity  (1831). 

' '  The  dreadful  day,  the  day  of  ire 
Shall  kmdle  the  avenging  fire 

Around  the  expiring  world  ; 
And  earth,  as  Sibyls  said  of  old, 
And  as  the  prophet  king  foretold, 

Shall  be  in  niiu  hurled. ' ' 


LOED  A.  W.  C.  Lindsay  (1847). 
"Day  of  wrath  and  doom  of  fire — 
Hark  the  Seer's,  the  Sibyl's  lyre — 
Earth  and  heaven  shall  expire. ' ' 


Eev.  E.  Caswall.     Lyra  Catholica  (1849). 
Nigher  still,  and  still  more  nigh 
Draws  the  Day  of  Prophecy, 
Doomed  to  melt  the  earth  and  sky. ' ' 


William  John  Blew  (1851). 

■  Day  of  vengeance,  day  of  sorrow, 
Fiery  morn  that  knows  no  morrow — 
Seer's  and  Sibyl's  word  to  borrow. '' 


Mrs.  Chaeles  (1858). 
From  The  Voice  of  Christian  Life  in  Song. 

'Lo,  the  Day  of  Wrath,  the  Day 
Earth  and  heaven  melt  away, 
David  and  the  Sibyl  say. 

Stoutest  hearts  with  fear  shall  quiver. 
When  to  Him  who  erretli  never, 
All  must  strict  account  deliver. 

Lo,  the  trumpet's  wondrous  pealing, 
Flung  through  each  sepulchral  dwelling, 
All  before  the  throne  compelling. ' ' 


THE  DIES  IRM.  165 

Abraham  Coles,  m.  d.,  ll.  d. 
Dr.  Abraham  Coles,  of  Scotch  Plains,  X.  J.,  prepared  in  all  seventeen 
versions,  including  one  of  1889,  not  yet  published  (see  p.  154).     These  are 
the  lii'st  stanzas  : — 

No.  1.    "Day  of  wrath,  that  day  of  burning, 
Seer  and  Sibyl  speak  concerning. 
All  the  world  to  ashes  turning. ' ' 

Xo.  '2.    ' '  Day  shall  dawn  that  lias  no  morrow, 
Day  of  vengeance,  day  of  sorrow, 
As  from  Prophecy  we  borrow. ' ' 

Xo.  3.    ' '  Day  of  Vengeance  and  of  "\Vages, 
Fiery  goal  of  all  the  ages, 
Burden  of  prophetic  pages  ! ' ' 

Xo.  4.    ' '  Day  of  Prophecy  !  it  flashes, 

Falling  spheres  together  dashes, 
And  the  world  consumes  to  ashes. ' ' 

Xo.  5.  ' '  Day  of  vengeance,  and  of  scorning. 
World  in  ashes,  world  in  mourning, 
Whereof  Prophets  utter  warning  !" 

Xo.  G.    ' '  Day  of  wrath  and  consternation, 
Day  of  fiery  consummation. 
Prophesied  in  Revelation  ! ' ' 

Xo.  7.    ' '  Day  of  wrath,  that  day  of  days, 
Present  to  my  thought  always. 
When  the  world  shall  burn  and  blaze  !  " 

Xo.  8.    "0,  that  dreadful  day,  my  soul ! 
Which  the  ages  shall  unroll, 
When  the  knell  of  Time  shall  toll !  " 

Xo.  9.    ' '  Day  fortetold,  that  day  of  ire, 
Burden  erst  of  David's  lyre, 
When  the  world  shall  sink  in  fire  !  " 

Xo.  lu.   "Lo  !  it  comes,  with  stealthy  feet, 
Da}",  the  ages  shall  complete, 
When  the  world  shall  melt  with  heat !  " 

Xo.  11.    "Day  of  wrath,  that  day  of  dole. 

When  a  fire  shall  wrap  the  whole, 
And  the  earth  be  burnt  to  coal ! ' ' 


166  THE  DIES  IRiE. 

No.  12.   "0  Day  of  wrath  !  0  day  of  fate  ! 
Day  foreordained  and  ultimate, 
When  all  things  here  shall  terminate  ! ' ' 

No.  13.    "That  day,  that  awful  Day,  the  last, 
Kesult  and  sum  of  all  the  Past, 
Great  necessary  day  of  doom, 
When  wrecking  fires  shall  all  consume  ! 

No.  14.    "  Day  of  audit  and  decision. 

Fiery  wreck  and  world  collision. 
Witnessed  in  prophetic  vision  ! ' ' 

No.  15.    "  Day  of  fiery  wrath  unsparing  ! 

End  of  all  things  here  declaring  ! 
David  thus  and  Sibyl  swearing  ! " 

No.  16.   "  Day  of  wrath  !  that  day  dismaying, 
All  the  world  in  ashes  laying, 
David  thus  and  Sibyl  saying  ! ' ' 

No.  17.    "  Day  of  wrath  that  day  of  doom, 
All  to  ashes  shall  consume  ; 
Whereof  David  witness  bears  ; 
As  the  Sibyl  too  declares. ' ' 


Heney  Mills,  d.d.,  of  Auburn,  N.  Y.  (1856). 
' '  Day  of  wrath — the  sinner  dooming, 
Earth  with  all  its  work  consuming, — 
Scripture  warns — that  day  is  coming ! ' ' 

William  G.  Dix  (1852). 
' '  That  day  of  wrath — upon  that  day 
To  ashes  earth  shall  pass  away. 
Both  David  and  the  Sibyl  say. 

3.       The  trump  shall  spread  its  startling  sound 
Through  sepulchres  beneath  the  ground, 
And  gather  all  the  throne  around. 

17.       Thou  gav'st  to  sinful  Mary  peace  ; 

Thou  to  the  thief  didst  grant  release  : 
Let  not  my  hope  of  pardon  cease. 


THE  DIES  IR^.  167 

Epes  Saegext,  Esq.,  New  York  (1852). 
' '  Diiy  of  ire,  that  day  impending, 
Earth  shall  melt,  in  ashes  ending — 
Seer  and  Sibyl  so  portending. 

Ah  !  what  trembling  then,  what  quailing, 
When  shall  come  the  Judge  unfaiHng, 
Every  human  life  unveiling. ' ' 

Rev.  C.  Z.  AVeiser,  Pennsburg,  Pa.  (1859). 
'  0  Day  of  wrath  !  that  Day  of  days 
To  ashes  shall  the  earth  emblaze — 
Say  David's  hymns  and  Sibyl  lays." 


Robert  Davidsox,  d.d.,  New  York  (1860). 
' '  Day  of  wrath  !  that  day  is  hasting, 
All  the  world  in  ashes  wasting, 
David  with  the  Sibyl  testing. ' ' 

Rev.  Charles  Rockwell  (1860). 
"Day  of  wrath!   Oh!  direful  day  ! 
Earth  in  flames  shall  pass  away, 
Virgil  [?]  and  the  Sibyl  say." 

From  Poems  by  Somniator. 
Philadelphia  Bulletin,  1860. 
"The  Sibyl's  leaf,  the  Psalmist's  lay 
Alike  portend  a  wrathful  day, 
When  heaven  and  earth  shall  melt  away." 

Anoxymous. 

1.  "Day  of  wrath  !■  that  day  appalling  ! 

Words  of  ancient  seers  recalling  : 
Earth  on  fire,  in  ashes  falling. 

2.  Oh,  in  hearts  of  men  what  trembling, 
At  that  Judge's  bar  assembling, 
Where  of  sins  is  no  dissembling. 

3.  Louder  and  yet  louder  breaking 
From  the  sky,  the  caverns  shaking. 
Angel  tramps  the  dead  awaking. ' ' 


168  THE  DIES  IR^. 

Genekal  Johx  Adams  Dix  (1863). 
' '  Day  of  vengeance,  without  morrow  ! 
Eartli  shall  end  in  flame  and  sorrow, 
As  from  Saint  and  Seer  we  borrow. ' ' 

This  version,  which  has  been  highly  praised  and  widely  circu- 
lated, was  made  at  Fortress  Monroe,  Va.,  during  the  civil  war, 
in  which  the  brave  and  patriotic  name  of  General  Dix  occupies 
a  distinguished  ])lace.  But  it  does  not  stand  close  examination. 
In  the  first  stanza  the  rhymes  ('^morrow,  sorrow,  borrow ^^)  are 
borrowed  from  Coles  (No.  2),  but  the  "  Day  of  Wrath  ^'  (which 
is  the  key-note  of  the  whole  poem)  is  changed  into  a  ^^  Day  of 
vengeance,"  and  '^ Saint  and  Seer"  are  substituted  for  ^' David 
and  Sibylla."  The  author  was  himself  dissatisfied  and  changed 
it  in  a  revised  edition,  1875,  as  follows: — 

"Day  of  vengeance,  lo  !  that  morning, 
On  the  earth  in  ashes  dawning, 
David  with  the  Sibyl  warning. ' ' 

Most  of  the  other  stanzas  present  striking  coincidences  with 
older  renderings,  especially  of  Irons  and  Coles ;  but  some  rhymes 
will  naturally  occur  to  different  translators.  Take  the  following 
specimens : — 

A.  Coles,  No.  1  (1847). 

13.   "Thou  to  Mary  gav'st  remission, 

Heard' st  the  dying  thief's  petition. 
Cheer' st  with  hope  my  lost  condition." 

JoHX  A.  Dix  (1863). 
13.   "  Thou  to  Mary  gav'st  remission. 

Heard' st  the  dying  thief's  petition, 
Bad'st  me  hope  in  my  contrition." 

W.  J.  Irons  (1848). 

10.  "Faint  and  weaiy  Thou  hast  sought  me. 

On  the  cross  of  suffering  bought  me  ; 
Shall  such  grace  be  vainly  brought  me  ? 

11.  Righteous  Judge  of  retribution. 
Grant  Thy  gifl  of  absolution, 

Ere  that  reckoning  day's  conclusion." 


THE  DIES  IR^E.  169 

Adolphe  Peeies,  of  Philadelphia  (1861). 
' '  Righteous  Judge  of  retribution, 
(rrant  us  sinners  absolution 
Ere  the  day  of  dissolution. ' ' 

JoHX  A.  Dix  (1863). 

10.  "Worn  and  weary,  Thou  hast  sought  me, 

By  Thy  cross  and  passion  bought  me — 
Spare  the  hope  Thy  labors  brought  me. 

11.  Righteous  Judge  of  retribution. 
Give,  0  give  me  absolution, 
Ere  the  day  of  dissolution. ' ' 

Dr.  Coles,  in  the  eleventh  stanza  of  his  first  translation  of 
1847,  had  anticipated  Irons,  P6ries,  and  Dix: — 

"Righteous  Judge  of  retribution. 
Make  me  gift  of  absolution 
Ere  that  day  of  execution. ' ' 

Compare  also  Dr.  H.  Mills  (1856) : — 

"Righteous  Judge  of  retribution, 
Bless  my  soul  with  absolution 
Ere  that  day  of  execution. ' ' 

Edward  Slossox,  of  the  bar  of  Xew  York. 
From  the  Xew  York  Journal  of  Commerce^  March  10,  1866. 
"Day  of  Wrath  !  of  days  that  Day  ! 
Earth  in  flames  shall  melt  awaj^. 
Heathen  seers,  with  Prophets  say. ' ' 

Erastus  C.  Bexedict,  Esq. 
^Ir.  Benedict,  a  lawyer  of  New  York,  prepared   three  translations,  first 
published  in  the   Christian   InteUiffenccr,    1864,    and   then   in  his  Hymn  of 
Hildebert,  and  other  3Iedixval  Hymns,  X.  Y.,  1867,  pp.  108-120  :— 

No.  1.    "DayofAYrath!  that  final  day, 
Shall  the  world  in  ashes  lay  ! 
David  and  the  Sibyl  say. ' ' 

No.  2.    ' '  Day  of  threatened  Wrath  from  heaven, 
To  the  sinful,  unforgiven  ! 
Earth  on  fire,  to  ashes  driven  ! ' ' 

No.  3.   ' '  Day  of  Wrath,  with  vengeance  glowing  I 
Seer  and  Sibyl  long  foreknowing  ! 
Earth  and  time  to  ruin  going ! 


170  THE  DIES  IR^. 

2.  How  the  guilty  world  will  tremble, 
"Wlieii  the  Judge  shall  all  assemble, 
And  not  one  will  dare  dissemble  ! 

3.  When  the  trumpet's  summons,  swelling 
Through  Death's  dark  and  dusty  dwelling, 
To  the  throne  is  all  compelhng  ! ' ' 

Anoxymous. 
From  the  N.  York  Evening  Post,  July  20,  1866. 

1.   "A  day  of  wrath  and  woe  that  day 
The  world  in  ashes  melts  away  ; 
So  David  and  the  Sibyl  say. ' ' 

Peof.  C.  INI.  DoDD,  Indiana  State  University  (1867). 
"Day  of  wrath  !  that  day  foretold  ! 
Which  in  ashes  earth  shall  fold ; 
Witness  Seer  and  Sibyl  old." 

J.  HosKYXs  Abeahall. 
From  the  Christian  Eemenibrancer,  Jan.,  1868. 

"Day  of  wrath  and  tribulation, 
Day  in  vasty  conflagration 
Heaven  and  earth  together  blending, 
And  the  world's  long  cycle  ending — 
Know,  it  cometh;  be  thou  heeding 
Hebrew  seers  and  heathen's  reading." 

AXOXYMOUS.       (R.  H.  HUTTOX?) 

From  the  London  Spectator  for  March  7,  1868. 

1.  "The  day  of  wrath,  that  haunting  day 

Shall  the  whole  age  in  ashes  lay. 
Thus  David  and  the  Sibyl  say. 

2.  What  terror  then  shall  seize  the  breast. 
When  the  great  Judge  is  manifest 

To  institute  the  awful  quest. ' ' 

Aetkue  p.  Staxley,  Dean  of  Westminster  (d.  1881). 
From  llacmillan^s  3Iagazine,  December,  1868. 
' '  Day  of  wrath,  0  dreadful  day, 
When  this  world  shall  pass  away, 
And  the  heavens  together  roll. 
Shrivelling  like  a  parched  scroll. 
Long  foretold  by  saint  and  sage, 
David's  harp  and  Sibyl's  page." 


THE  DIES  IRJE.  171 

Joiix  D.  Van  Buiiex. 

From  The  Sfahat  Maicr  and  other  Versions,  Albany  (Joel  Munsell),  1872. 

"Day  of  wratli !  terrific  morning  ! 
Earth  in  aslies  at  its  dawning 
David,  Sibyl,  both  give  warning. ' ' 

John  O'Hagan.     Dublin,  1874. 

"Day  of  wrath,  that  day  whose  knelhng 
Gives  to  flame  this  earthly  dwelling  ; 
Psalm  and  Sibyl  thus  foretelling. ' ' 

AXOXYMOUS. 

From  TJie  Catholic  World,  New  York,  1882  (p.  42). 
"  The  judgment  day,  that  day  of  dread, 
Shall  see  the  world  in  ashes  laid. 
As  David  and  the  Sibyl  said. ' ' 

W.  J.  COPELAXD,  Rector  of  Farnham. 
From  The  Dublin  Review,  1883  (p.  382). 
' '  Day  of  doom,  that  day  of  ire. 

Earth  shall  sink  in  crumbling  fire  ; 

Seer's  and  Sibyl's  burden  dire." 

Prior  James  D.  Aylward. 
From  The  Duhlin  Ilcvieic,  1883  (p.  383). 
"Day  of  wratli  and  grief  and  shame, 
Shall  fold  the  world  in  sheeted  flame 
As  psalm  and  Sibyl's  songs  proclaim." 

Feaxklix  Johxsox,  d.  d.  (1883). 

1.  "  Day  of  wrath,  that  day  of  burning  ! 

Earth  shall  end,  to  ashes  turning  : 
Thus  sing  Saint  and  Seer  discerning. 

2.  How  shall  quake  both  high  and  lowly 
When  the  judge  shall  come,  most  holy. 
Strict  to  search  all  sin  and  folly.  ^ 

^  The  author,  a  Baptist  clergyman  of  Old  Cambridge,  Mass. ,  who  published 
this  version  in  1883,  speaks  of  the  tantalizing  effort  to  reproduce   "the 


172  THE  DIES  mJE. 

3.  There  is  heard  a  sound  of  wonder  ! 
Mighty  blasts  of  trumpet  thunder, 
Rend  the  sepulchres  asunder  ! ' ' 

John  Mason  Beown. 
From  The  Catholic  JVorld,  N.  York,  Nov.,  1884  (p.  177). 
"That  day  of  wrath,  of  Grod's  dread  ire, 
Shall  wrap  the  Universe  in  fire, 
Foretold  by  Seer  and  Psalmist's  lyre. ' ' 

Hex.  John  L.  Hayes,  ll.d.  (Cambridge,  Mass.). 

From  The  Independent,  New  York,  Dec.  30,  1886. 
' '  That  day  of  doom  and  dread  amaze, 
The  earth  dissolved,  the  heavens  ablaze, 
Foreseen  by  seers'  and  Sibyl's  gaze." 

John  S.  Hagee  (U.  S.  Senator  1874-'75). 
From  The  Overland  3Ionthhj,  Vol.  Yii,  San  Francisco,  1886  (p.  530). 
"Day  of  wrath,  that  day  when  burning 
Earth  dissolves,  to  ashes  turning  ; 
Witness  Psalm  and  Sibyl's  wailiing." 

Rev.  Alfeed  H.  Fahnestock. 
From  the  Presbyterian  Journal,  Philadelphia,  July  22,  1889. 

1.  "  Day  of  wrath,  that  day  of  dooming, 

All  the  worlds  in  flames  consuming, 
Seers  behold  with  aspect  glooming. 

2.  Lo  !  how  great  the  trepidation, 
When  the  Judge  of  all  creation 
Maketh  close  investigation ! 

3.  Loud  the  awful  trumpet  sounding, 

vi  Calls,  with  voice  through  tombs  rebounding. 

All  before  the  throne  astounding. 

burden  of  thought,  the  sublime  pictures,  the  throbs  of  emotion,  the  weird 
measure,  and  delicate  associations  "  of  the  original,  and  suggests,  in  a  letter 
to  me,  August  28,  1889,  the  following  substitute  for  the  second  stanza  (to 
get  rid  of  "folly  "):— 

"  How  man's  heart  with  terror  quaketh 
Earthward  when  His  way  Christ  taketh, 
And  strict  search  in  all  things  maketh." 


THE  DIES  IR/E.  173 

4.  Death  Jind  Nature,  awed  and  quaking, 
See  the  Imnian  creature  waking. 
And  in  judgment  answer  making. 

5.  Then  the  book  is  shown  containing 
All  men's  deeds,  all  guilt  explaining, 
Not  a  soul  unjudged  remaining." 

GEKMAX   YERSIOXS. 

The  following  specimens  will  give  an  idea  of  the  Gernian 
translations.  The  first  stanza  is  selected,  as  it  is  generally  char- 
acteristic of  the  whole. 

Catholic  Hymx  Book,  Munich  (1613). 
"An  jenem  Tag,  nach  David's  Sag, 
Soil  Grottes  Zorn  erbriunen: 
Durch  Feuers  Flamm,  muss  allesamm, 
Gleichwie  das  Wachs  zerrinnen. ' ' 

AXDEEAS  Gryphius  (1659). 
"Zorntag  !  Tag,  der,  was  wir  ehren, 
Wird  durch  schnelle  Grlut  zertsoren, 
Wie  Sibjdl  und  Petrus  lehren. ' ' 

These  seem  to  be  the  two  oldest  German  translations,  but 
inferior  to  the  English  translations  of  the  seventeenth  century. 

Fraxz  Xavier  Riedel  (1773). 
"Am  Tag'  des  Zorns,  an  jenem  Tage 
Nach  Davids  und  Sibyllens  Sage 
Yersinkt  in  Asche  diese  Welt. ' ' 

Chr.  D.  Ebelixg  (1800). 
"Erden  wanken,  Welten  beben, 
Wenn  du,  Herr,  dich  wirst  erheben, 
Richtend  liber  Tod  und  Leben. ' ' 

J.  G.  vox  Herder  (1802). 
1.    "  Tag  des  Schreckens  !     Tag  voll  Beben  ! 
Wenn  die  Griifte  sich  erheben 
Und  die  Todten  wiederceben  ! 


o 


Welch  ein  Zittern,  welch  ein  Zagen  ! 
Wenn  im  Donner  jetzt  der  Richter 
Kommt  und  ruft,  die  uns  verklagen  ! 


174  THE  DIES  IR^. 

3,      Furclitbar  schallet  die  Drommete, 
Aus  den  Griiiften  aller  Erde 
Zwingt  sie  alles  in's  G-ericlit." 

Herder's  version,  though  superior  to  its  predecessors,  is  incom- 
plete (only  eight  stanzas),  unequal,  and  unworthy  of  his  great 
genius. 

A.  W.  VON  SCHLEGEL  (1802). 

1,  "  Jenen  Tag,  den  Tag  des  Zoren, 

Geht  die  Welt  in  Brand  verloren, 
Wie  Propheten  lioch  beschworen. 

2.  \yelch  ein  Graun  wird  sein  und  Zagen, 
Wenn  der  Richter  kommt,  mit  Fragen 
Streng  zu  priifen  alle  Klagen  ! 

3.  Die  Posaun'  im  Wundertone, 
Wo  audi  wer  im  Grabe  wohne, 
Rufet  alle  lier  zum  Throne. 

4,  Tod,  Natur  mit  Staunen  sehen 
Dann  die  Creatur  erstelien, 
Zur  Yerantwoitung  zu  gelien. ' ' 

This  is  the  first  really  good  German  version,  and  betrays  the 
skill  of  a  master.  Yet  Schlegel  himself  (in  a  letter  to  Konigs- 
feld)  admitted  the  failure  of  the  first  stanza ;  Zoren  for  Zorn  is 
antiquated,  and  the  Sibyl  should  not  be  omitted  in  a  faithful 
version,  unless  it  be  intended  for  public  worship. 

Fk.  von  Meyee  (1806). 

' '  Tag  des  Zorns,  mit  wildem  Raube 

Wandelst  du  die  Welt  zu  Staube, 

So  bezeugt's  der  heil'ge  Glaube." 

The  whole  version,  as  modified  in  1824,  is  given  by  Lisco. 

Catholic  Hymn  Book  of  Munich  (1810). 
1.   "Erden  wanken,  Welten  beben, 

Wenn  du,  Herr  !  dicli  wirst  erheben, 

Riclitend  liber  Tod  und  Leben. 


9 


Ach  vor  jenen  Ungewittern, 
Die  der  Welten  Bau  crscliiittern, 
Werdcn  alle  Frevler  zitteru. ' ' 


THE  DIES  IRJE.  175 

This  version  was  made  use  of  in  several  editioDs  of  Mozart's 
Requiem. 

J.  (I.  FiciiTE,  the  celebrated  philosopher  (1S13). 

1.  "  Jencn  Tacr,  den  Tag  der  Fiille, 

Fallt  die  Welt  in  Graus  uiid  Stille, 
David  zeugt's  imd  die  Sibylle. 

2.  Angst  ergrcift  die  Creaturen, 
AVie  sie  in  azurneu  Fhiren 

Sehn  des  nah'nden  Riehters  Spuren." 

M.  F.  Jack  (1815). 
"  Welche  bange  Trauerstunde, 
Wenn,  nach  der  Proplieten  Munde, 
Gliiht  die  Erd'  im  Feuerschlunde. ' '   • 


Lisco  quotes  another  from  Jiick  : — 

' '  Tag,  prophetisch  uns  verkiindet, 
Wenn  du  kommst,  wie  Staub  versehwindet 
Dann,  was  sich  auf  Erden  findet. ' ' 

Fk.  Kind  (1817). 
' '  Tag  des  Zorns,  du  wirst  crfiillen 
Davids  Wort  uud  der  Sibyllen, 
Wirst  die  Welt  in  Asche  hiillen. ' ' 

SCHMEDDIXG  (1817). 

"  Jener  Tag,  den  Zorn  entziindet, 
Da  die  Welt  in  Asclie  scliwindet, 
Ward  proplietiseli  uns  verkiindet,*" 

Ad.  L.  Follex  (1819). 
' '  Tag  des  Zornes,  wann  er  taget, 
Feuerloh  die  Zeit  zernaget, 
Wie  Sibyll  mit  David  saget." 

J.  P.  SiLBEET  (1820). 

1 .  "  Tag  des  Zornes,  furchtbar  stille  ! 
Du  vergliihst  des  Erdballs  Fiille, 
Zeugt  mit  David  die  Sibylle. 


176  THE  DIES  IR^. 

2.  Welch  ein  Zittern  unci  Erbeben, 
Wird  im  Glanz  der  Ricliter  scbweben, 
Streng  zu  ricliten  Aller  Leben  ! 

3.  Hehr  wird  die  Posaune  kliiigen, 
Wird  durcb  feme  Griifte  dringen, 
Alle  Yor  den  Tliron  zuin  zwingen. 

4.  Die  Natur,  der  Tod  sielit  bebend 

Das  Geschopf  der  Gmft  entscliwebend, 
Und  dem  Ricliter  Antwort  gebend. 

5.  Und  ein  Buch  ersclieint  zur  Stunde  ; 
Dies,  entfaltend  jede  Kunde, 

Liegt  dem  Weltgericht  zum  Grunde. " 

This  excellent  version  rivals  with  that  of  Schle^el 


&" 


A.  C.  DoEiXG  (1821). 
' '  Tag  des  Zorns,  wo  Gott  einst  richtet, 
Und  die  Welt  in  Glut  vernichtet, 
Wie  Propheten  uus  berichtet. ' ' 

J.  H.  Von  AVessexbeeg,  Bishop  of  Constance  (1820). 
"Furchtbar  wird  der  Tag  sich  rothen, 
Kundgethan  von  den  Propheten, 
Der  die  Welt  in  Staub  wird  treten  ' ' 


W.  A.  SwoBODA  (Prag,  1826). 
"  Tag  des  Zornes,  Tag  der  Klagen  ! 
Zeit  und  Welt  wirst  du  zerschlagen, 
Wie  uns  die  Propheten  sagen," 

Christiax  Meusch  (1827). 
"  Jencr  Tag  der  Zornesfulle 
Lost  die  Welt  zu  Aschenhiille  ; 
David  zeugt's  und  die  Sibylle.'* 

J.  A.  ScHOLTZ  (1828). 
*' Jener  Tag  in  Zornes  Fiille 
Lost  in  Brand  der  Zeitcn  Hiille, 
David  zeugt's  und  die  Sibylle." 


THE  DIES  lllJE.  177 

ClAUS  IfAKMS  (1828). 
"  Zorntag,  grosstcr  aller  Tage, 
Allcr  Bibolu  ernste  Sage, 
Mit  doui  Feuer,  mit  der  Waage." 

J.  Em.  Yeith  (1829). 
"Tag  des  Zoriies,  Tag  der  Zillireii 
AVird  die  A^'elt  in  Asche  kelireii, 
Wie  Sibyir  und  David  lehren. ' ' 

J.  C.  W.  XiEMEYER  (Halle,  1833). 
"  Jener  Rachetag  der  Siinden 
Wird  die  Welt  zu  Asclie  ziinden, 
Wie  Sibyll'  und  David  kiinden. 

Chevalier  Buxsex  (1833). 
"Tag  des  Zorns,  0  Tag  voll  Grauen, 
Da  die  AVelt  den  Herrn  soil  schauen, 
Nacli  dem  Wort,  dem  wir  vertrauen." 

Gael  Simrock  (1834). 
' '  Tag  des  Zornes,  des  Gerichtes  ! 
AVas  von  Staub  in  Flammen  bricht  es : 
David  und  Sibylle  spriclit  es. ' ' 

MoiixiKE  (1834). 
"Tag  des  Zorns  !  in  Flammenwelien 
AVird  die  AVelt  zu  Staub  vergelieu, 
Wie  Proplieten  liingst  gesehen. ' ' 

Feaxke  (1839). 
"Einst  am  Richttag  wird  vei-schwinden 
Zeit  und  A\  elt  in  Feuersclilunden, 
AVie  uns  lieil'ge  Sanger  kiinden." 

Dr.  H.  a.  Eriiaed,  of  ]MUnster. 
"Tag  des  Grinnncs,  Tag  voll  Sclielten, 
Der  in  Asche  k^gt  die  AVelten, 
AA'ie  uns  lieil'ge  Seher  melden." 

F.  v.  Pechlix  (Lisco,  p.  152). 
"  Ja,  ein  Tag  wird  Zorn  enthiillcn, 
Durcli  den  Brand  der  AA^elt  erfiillen 
David's  AA^ort  und  der  Sibyllen." 


12 


178  THE  DIES  lE^. 

F.  G.  Lisco,  D.D.  (1840). 
"  Tag  des  Zorns,  Tag  zu  vergelten  ! 
Feuers  Glut  verzehrt  die  Welten, 
Denn  der  Seller  Wort  muss  gelten." 

Cue.  L.  Couaed,  d.d.  (1840). 
' '  Tag  des  Zorns,  in  Asclienlilille 
Kleid'st  du  einst  der  Welten  Hiille, 
David  zeugt's  und  die  Sibylle." 

From  another  version  by  the  same^  quoted  by  Lisco,  his 
fellow-pastor  in  Berlin  (1840): — 

"Tag  des  Zorns,  in  Flammenmeeren 
Wirst  du  einst  die  Welt  verzehren, 
Wie  Sibyir  und  David  leliren." 

Anonymous  (1840). 
"  Schreckenstag  der  Zornesfiille  ! 
A\^eltenpraclit  wird  Asclienliiille  ! 
David  zeugt's  und  die  Sibylle." 

Anonymous  (1840.) 
"Tag  des  Zorns,  der  wird  crfiillen 
David's  Sprueh  und  der  Sibyllen, 
Und  die  Welt  in  Asclie  lilillen. ' ' 

Dr.  L.  Steckling  (1840). 

"Tag  der  Zorngewalt,  der  holien, 

Du  zerstorst  die  Welt  in  Lohen, 

Wie  Sibyir  und  David  drolien." 

EOBEET  Lecke  (1842). 
' '  Jener  Tag,  wo  Gott  wird  richten, 
Soil  die  Welt  zu  Staub  vcrnicliten, 
Wie  Proplieten  uns  berichten. ' ' 

Lecke  made  and  published  at  his  own  expense,  at  Munich, 
1842,  no  less  than  twelve  translations,  which,  however,  do  not 
rise  above  mediocrity. 

Kael  Foetlage  (1844). 
"Jener  Tag  voll  Zorn  und  llingen 
Wird  die  Welt  in  Glut  vcrschlingen, 
Wie  Sibyir  und  David  singen." 


THE  DIES  IRiE.  179 

Albeet  Knapp  (1850). 
"All  dem  Zorntag,  an  dem  holien, 
Stiirzt  die  AVclt  in  Fouerlolicn, 
Wie  Proplietenscliwiirc  drolicn. ' ' 

Knapp  made  an  earlier  version  in  1829,  which  is  the  basis  of 
the  one  in  the  Wiirtemberg  Hymn  Book,  1849: — 

' '  Jenen  Tag,  den  Tag  der  Wehen, 
Wird  die  AVelt  ini  Staub  vergehen, 
Wie  Prophetenspruch  geschchen. ' ' 

Lebrecht  Dreves  (1846). 
"Tag  des  Zorns,  bei  deinem  Tagen 
Wird  die  Welt  zu  Staub  zerschlagen, 
Wie  Sibyir  und  David  sagen. ' ' 

G.  A.  KiJNIGSFELD  (1847). 

"An  dem  Zorntag,  jenem  heliren, 
Wird  die  Glut  das  All  verzehren, 
Wie  Sibyll'  und  David  lehren." 

In  his  second  collection  of  Latin  hymns  with  translations, 
published  in  Bonn,  1865,  Konigsfeld  gives  a  revised  version, 
changing  the  first  line  thus  : — 

"Jenen  Zorntag,  jenen  scliwercn." 

FiuEDRiCH  Heixricii  Schlosser  (1851). 
"Tag  des  Zorns,  der  Tag  der  Fiille, 

Deckt  die  Welt  mit  Asclienliiille, 

David  zeugt  es  und  Sibyile. ' ' 

Vox  Seld.     In  Daniel's  Thes.  Ili/nmol,  ii,  p.  110. 
"  Zorn  und  Zittern  bange  Klag  ist, 
Wenn  der  letzte  aller  Tag  ist, 
Wie  die  alte  heil'ge  Sag  ist." 

H,  A.  Daniel  (1855).      Two  versions. 
No.  1.  "Tag  des  Zorns,  du  Tag  der  Fulle, 
Kehrst  die  Welt  in  Staubgeriille — 
So  zeugt  David  und  Sibyile. ' ' 


180  THE  DIES  IR^. 

No.  2.  ' '  David  und  Sib3dla  spricht : 

Erd  und  Himmel  bleiben  nicht, 
Wenn  der  jiingste  Tag  anbricht." 

Kael  Kolker  (1888). 
1.  "  Jener  Zorntag,  Tag  der  Klagen 
Wird  die  Welt  zii  Asclie  schlagen, 
Wie  Sibyir  und  David  sagen. 

2.  Welclie  Angst  entsteht,  welch  Bangen, 
Wenn  der  Richter  kommt  gegangen, 
Streng  zu  priifen,  was  begangen. 

10.  Sucbtest  micb  mit  miiden  Schrittcn, 
Hast  am  Kreuz  mir  Heil  erstritten, 
Nicht  umsonst  sei  dies  erlitten  ! ' ' 

The  best  among  these  German  versions  are  those  of  Schlegel, 
Silbert,  Bunsen,  Knapp  and  Daniel.  But  none  of  them  has 
become  so  popular  as  the  free  reproduction  in  the  old  German 
hymn  :  ^'  Es  ist  gew'issUch  an  der  Zeit,^^  by  Bartholomiius  Eing- 
waldt,  1582. 

FREXCH  VERSIONS. 

The  French  language  is  bright,  brilliant,  and  rhetorical,  but 
less  adapted  for  poetry,  especially  of  this  solemn  kind.  I  have 
seen  but  one  French  translation,  by  an  anonymous  author,  in 
Lisco's  ^'Stabat  Mater/'  from  an  older  print  of  1702.  It 
begins : — 

^''Ojoiir  du  Dieii  vengear^  oiiponr punir  Jes  crimes 
Un  deluge  hrulant  sortira  des  ahimes^ 
Et  le  del  s' arinera  defoudres  et  d' eclairs ; 
Quel  trouble  en  tous  les  coeurs^  quand  cejuge  severe^ 
LaiKjant  de  tout e  part  les  traits  de  sa  colcre, 
K^ur  un  trone  de  feu  paraitra  dans  less  curs!''' 

There  are  several  good  translations  into  Dutch.  A  translation 
into  modern  Greek,  by  the  Rev.  Mr.  Hildner,  a  missionary  of 
the  Church  of  England  at  Syra,  was  first  published  in  Tholuck's 
Literay^y  Advertiser  for  1842,  and  then  by  Daniel,  Thesaurus 
HymnoL,  torn,  ii.,  p.  105.  Daniel  (ii.  387)  gives  also  a  Hebrew 
version  by  L.  Splieth. 


THE  DIES  IRM. 


181 


TWO  YEESIOXS   IX   GERMAN. 

I  add  In  conclusion  two  German  translations  which  I  made  in 
1858,  together  with  an  English  version^,  when  I  was  preparing  a 
German  hymn  book  for  the  German  Reformed  Church  in 
America.  They  claim  no  poetic  merit,  but  one  of  them,  with  some 
alterations,  has  found  a  place  in  several  German  hymn  books. 


1.  An  dem  Tag  der  Zornesflammon 
Sturzt  die  Welt  in  Staub  zusammen, 
Kach  dem  Wort,  das  Ja  und  Amen. 

2.  Welch'  ein  Grauen  bei  der  Kunde, 
Dass  der  Riciiter  nalit  zur  Stunde, 
Mit  dem  Flammenschwert  im  Munde ! 

3.  Die  Posaune  wird  erschallen 
Durcli  der  Grliber  dumpfe  Ilallen, 
'' Auf  zum  Throne  !  "  rufend  Allen. 

4.  Tod  und  Leben  seh'n  mit  Beben 
Die  Geschopfe  sich  erheben, 
Antwort  vor  Gericht  zu  geben. 

5.  Jetzt  wird  sich  ein  Buch  entfalten, 
Drinnen  Alles  ist  enthalten, 
Darnach  wird  der  Richter  schalten. 

6.  Also  ^yird  der  Richter  sitzen, 
Das  Verborgenste  durchblitzen 
Nichts  vor  seiner  Rache  schiitzen. 

7.  Wie  wird  dann  mir  sein  zu  Muthe, 
Wer  lenkt  ab  des  Zornes  Ruthe, 
Wenn  kaum  sicher  ist  der  Gate  ? 

8.  Kcinig  schrecklicher  Gewalten, 
Frei  ist  deiner  Gnade  Schalten, 
Heiland,  lass  mich  Gnad'  erhalten  ! 

9.  Jesu  !  mir  zum  Heil  erkoren, 
Denk',  aueh  mir  wardst  Du  geboren, 
Dass  ich  einst  nicht  geh'  verloren. 

10.  Ich  war  Ziel  ja  deines  Strebens  ; 
Kreuzestod  der  Preis  des  Lebens ; 
So  viel  Miih'  sei  nicht  vergebens  ! 

11.  Richter  mit  der  heil'gen  Wage, 
Hilf  mir,  dass  ich  nicht  verzage 
An  dem  grossen  Rachetage. 


II. 

1.  An  dem  Tag  der  Zornesfiille 
Sinkt  die  Welt  in  Aschenhiille  : 
So  zeugt  Gottes  W^ort  und  Wille.  =« 

2.  Welch'  ein  Zittern,  welch'  ein  Zagcn 
Wenn  der  Richter  kommt,  mit  Fragen, 
Alle  Siinder  anzukiagen. 

o.  Die  Posaun'  im  Wundertone 
Schallt  durcli  Griiber  jeder  Zone 
Fordcrnd  alle  zu  dem  Throne. 

4.  Erd'  und  Holle  werden  zittern 
In  des  Wcltgerichts  Gewittern, 
Die  das  Todtcnreich  erschUttern. 

5.  Und  ein  Buch  wird  aufgeschlagcn, 
Drinnen  Alles  eingetragen, 

Dcss  die  Siinder  anzukiagen. 

6.  Als  dann  wird  der  Richter  thronen, 
Alles  Gute  zu  belohnen, 

Keine  Siinde  zu  verschonen. 

7.  Was  soil  dann  ich  Armer  sagen, 
W"en  um  Schutz  zu  bitten  wagen, 
Wenn  Gerechte  fast  verzagen? 

S.  Konig,  furchtbar  hoch  erhaben, 
Brunnquell  aller  Gnadengaben, 
Dcin  Erbarmen  lass  mich  laben  ! 

y.  Milder  Jesu  !  wollst  bedenken, 

Dass  Du  kamst  den  Zorn  zu  lenken; 
Ew'ges  Heil  auch  mir  zu  schenken. 

10.  Du  hast  ja  fiir  mich  gerungen, 

Slind'  und  Tod  fiir  mich  bezwungen ; 
Solch'  ein  Sieg  ist  Dir  gelungen ! 

]  ] .  Richter  der  gerechten  Rache, 
Aller  Schuld  mich  ledig  mache. 
Eh'  zum  Zorntag  ich  erwache. 


^  See  above,  p.  159  sq. 

^  Literally  :  "David  zeugt's  und  die  Sibylle;"  but  the  Sibyl  is  out  of 
place  in  a  Protestant  hymn  book. 


182 


THE  DIES  IR^. 


12.  Ach  icli  muss  yor  Schaam  errothcn, 
Sieh'  mich  reuig  yor  Dich  treten  ; 
Hor'mein  briinstig  Fleli'n  und  Bcten. 

13.  Der  Marien  Du  erhoret, 

Und  dem  Scliucher  Huld  gewahret, 
Hast  auch  hoften  mich  gelehret. 

14.  Zwar  mein  Fleh'n  ist  zu  geringe; 
Nur  um  freie  Gnad'  ieh  ringe, 

Dass  die  Glut  mich  nicht  verschlinge. 

15.  Zu  den  Schaafen  lass  mich  kommcu, 
Fern  den  Bocken,  angenommen 
Dir  zur  Rechten  bei  den  Frommen. 

16.  Wenn  Du  zu  den  Feuerflammen 
Die  Yerworfnen  wirst  verdammen, 
Ruf'  mit  Sei'gen  mich  zusammen. 

17.  Herr,  zerknirscht  im  tiefsten  Grunde, 
Bet'  ich,  dass  ich  noch  gesunde, 
Sorge  f  iir  die  letzte  Stunde  ! 


12.  Sieh'  ich  seufze  schuldbeladen, 
Schaamroth  liber  schweren  Schaden, 
Heir'  mein  Fleh'n,  o  Gott,  in  Gnadcn. 

13.  Der  Du  lossprachst  einst  Marien, 
Und  dera  Sch'dcher  selbst  yerziehen, 
Hast  auch  HofFnung  mir  verliehen. 

14.  Zwar  unwUrdig  ist  mein  Flehen 
Doch  lass  Gnad'  f  Iir  Recht  ergehen, 
Mich  die  ew'ge  Glut  nicht  sehen. 

15.  Wollst  mich  yon  den  Bocken  trennen, 
Deinen  Schaafen  zuerkeunen, 
Platz  zu  Deiner  Rechten  gonncn. 

16.  Wenn  die  Bosen  in's  Vcrderben 
Stlirzen  zu  dem  ew'gen  Sterben, 
Ruf  mich  mit  den  Himmelserben. 

17.  Tief  im  Staub  ring'  ich  die  Ilaude, 
Und  den  Seufzer  zu  Dir  sende  : 
Gieb  mir,  Herr,  ein  selig  Ende  ! 


Jesu,  treuster  Heiland  Du, 
Schenke  uns  die  ew'ge  Ruh  ! 

Amen. 


Jesu,  Allerbarmer  Du, 
Schenk'  uns  all'n  die  ew'ge  Ruh 
Amen. 


LITEEATUEE. 

G.  C.  F.  Mohxike:  Kirchen-und  literarhistonsche  Studien  und  BliWieilungen. 
Stralsund,  1824,  Bd.  I.,  Heft  1  {Beitrdge  zur  alien  kirchUchcn  HymnoJogie),  pp. 
1-111  ;  and  HymnoL  Forschungen,  1832,  Tlieil  ii.,  149-160.  (My  copy  has  the 
autograph  of  Gieseler,  the  church  historian. ) 

G.  W.  P'lXK:  Thomas  von  Celano,  in  Ersch  und  Gruber's  '"Encyclop." 
Sect.  1,  Bd.  XVI.  7-10. 

F.  G.  LiSCO  (Pastor  in  Berlin)  :  Dies  Irw,  Ilyninus  auf  das  WcltgericM. 
Berlin,  1840  (152  pi^.,  4to).  Contains  fifty -four  German  translations, 
besides  a  number  of  fragments,  and  adds  historical  remarks,  mostly  from 
Mohnike.  In  an  Appendix  to  a  similar  monograph  on  the  Stahat  Mater  (Ber- 
lin, 1843),  Lisco  notices  seventeen  additional  translations  of  the  Dies  Irw,  and 
gives  a  chronological  list  of  78  German  versions  complete  or  incomplete,  and 
4  Dutch  versions. 

W.  R.  Williams  :  MisceUanies.     New  York,  second  ed.,  1850,  pp.  78-90. 

H.  A.  Daxiel  :  Thesaurus  Ilymnologicus.  Lips.,  Tom,  ii.  (1855),  pp.  103- 
131 ;  and  Tom.  v.  (185G),  pp.  110-116.  (The  Preface  to  Vol.  i.  is  dated  May 
21,  1841.) 

Richaed  Chexevix  Teexcii  (Archbishop  of  Dublin,  d.  1886)  :  Sacred 
Latin  Poetry.  London  and  Cambridge,  1819;  second  ed. ,  1864  ;  third  ed., 
1874,  revised,  pp.  302-307.  He  is  mistaken  if  he  says  (p.  307)  that  the 
German  versions  of  the  Dies  Inv  are  more  numerous  than  the  English. 


THE  DIES  lEiE.  183 

ABRAHA:\r  Coles  (m.d.,  ph.  d.,  ll.d.)  :  Dies  Iras  in  thirteen  original  versions, 
li'itli  pliotograpldc  illustrations.  New  York  (Appletons),  1859;  fifth  ed.,  1868 
(p.  63).  Comp.  his  3Iicrocosm  and  other  Focms,  New  York,  1881,  pp.  277-285, 
which  contains  three  additional  translations  (see  above,  pp.  154  and  1G5). 

An  anonymous  publication  [by  Mrs.  A.  E.  Nott],  entitled  The  Seven 
Great  Hymns  of  the  Mediceval  Churchy  New  York  (Anson  D.  F.  Eandolph  & 
Co.),  third  ed.,  1867,  pp.  44-97,  gives  seven  English  versions  of  the  Dies 
Ini',  by  Gen.  Dix,  Eoscommon,  Crashaw,  Irons,  Slosson,  and  Coles  (2  ver- 
sions).    The  5th  ed.,  1868  (pp.  153),  has  some  additions. 

Philip  Schaff  :  Dies  Irx.  Two  articles  in  "Hours  at  Home,^^  New 
York  (Ch.  Scribner),  1868,  May  and  July  Nos.,  pp.  39-48,  and  261-268. 
They  form  the  basis  of  this  essay. 

Orby  Shipley:  Fifti/  Versions  of  "Dies  Irw.''^  Two  articles  in  "The 
Dublin  Eeview,"  London,  1883,  Vol.  IX,  48-77,  and  399-396.  The  writer 
gives  (p.  56  sq. )  a  list  of  50  English  versions,  with  names  of  authors,  date, 
religion,  metre  and  rhyme.  He  omits  the  American  versions,  but  charges 
Dr.  Coles,  without  naming  him  (p.  51),  with  "  an  uni)ardonable  offense"  ( !) 
for  publishing  tliirteen  different  versions  of  his  own. 

Fraxklix  Johxsox  :  The  Dies  Iriv.  Privately  printed,  Cambridge, 
Mass.,  1883  (pp.  38).  The  Latin  text  with  an  English  version  in  double 
rhyme,  and  notes.  (A  copy  in  the  Library  of  Harvard  College,  Cambridge, 
Mass.)     See  above,  p.  171. 

K.  E.  EoELKER  :  Die  altkirchliche  Hymnenpoesie.  Osnabrlick,  1888,  A 
posthumous  fragment  of  94  pages,  with  German  translations  of  Dies  Irx. 

Compare  also  the  hymnological  works  of  Mox'^E,  Koch,  and  AYacker- 
NAGEL.  To  these  will  soon  be  added  a  comprehensive  Cyclopaedia  of 
Hymnology,  edited  by  Julian,  and  to  be  published  in  1890  by  J.  Murray,  in 
London,  and  Charles  Scribner's  Sous,  in  New  York. 

Johx  Edmaxds  (Librarian  of  the  Mercantile  Library  in  Philadelphia)  : 
Bibliography  of  the  Dies  Irx  of  Thomas  de  Celano.  In  the  "  Bulletin  of  the 
Mercantile  Library  of  Philadelphia,"  Yol.  I.,  No.  9  (Oct.  1,  1884),  pp.  160- 
166,  and  No.  10  (Jan.  1,  1885),  pp.  179-188.  A  very  full  and  accurate 
list  of  English  versions  down  to  1884,  to  which  I  am  chiefly  indebted  for 
the  following 


CHRONOLOGICAL  LIST  OF  ENGLISH  TRANSLxiTIONS   OF  THE  DIES  IR^ 

FROM  1621-1889. 
The  translations  marked  by  an  asterisk  are  the  best,  as  far  as  1  can  judge, 
either  from  j^ersonal  examination  or  from  the  name  of  the  translator  and 
his  other  works. 

Joshua  Sylvester :  London,  1621.    10  W.    Drummoiid,    of    Hawthorndon: 

stanzas  of  0  lines  each.  London,  1656. 

*Richard  Crashaw:   London,   1646,  A.  C.  Crowther   and  T.  V.  Sadler: 

often  reprinted.     17    stanzas  of  4   lines  1657. 

each.     A  reproduction.     See  pp.  153  and  James  Dymock  :  London,  1687. 

163.  Anonymous:  1694. 


184 


THE  DIES  IK^. 


*"W.  Dillon,  Earl  of  Roscommon: 

London,  1696,  1717,  and  often. 

Andrew  Dickinson:  1768. 

*Sir  Walter  Scott:  1805,  often  re- 
published in  his  works  and  in  many 
hymn  books.  An  abridged  reproduction, 
in  3  stanzas  of  4  lines  each.     See  p.  163. 

Anonymous  :  In  "  Christian  Observer," 
London,  May,  1819. 

Anonymous:  1825. 

*Lord   Th.   E.   Macaulay :    London, 


1826,  and  often. 


?ee  p. 


16;^ 


F.  C.  Husenbeth :  London,  1831. 

William  Hay:  1S31. 

"•••Isaac  Williams  t  London,  1831,  and 
often. 

Kichard  Parkinson :  London,  1832. 

Anonymous:  1833. 

John  Chandler :  1837. 

Anonymous:  In  "Christian  Observer," 
London,  Jan.,  1837. 

J.  R.  Beste     London,  1839. 

Daniel  French :  1839. 

Anonymous  :  "  N.  Y.  Evangelist,"  Oct. 
16,  1841. 

William  Young:  1842. 

'••Henry  Alford  (d.  d..  Dean  of  Can- 
terbury) :  London,  1844,  and  often.  See 
p.  156. 

*■  Richard  C.  Trench  (Archbishop  of 
Canterbury) :  London,  1844,  and  since. 
See  p.  156. 

Henry  Mills  :  Auburn,  1845.  "  Hora3 
Germanicoe,"  2d  ed.,  1856,  Appendix  (p. 
363  sq.).     See  pp.  166  and  169. 

Edw.  V.  Hyde  Kenealy  :  1845. 

John  Williams  :  Hartford,  1845. 

W.  F.  Wingfield  :  1845  ("  Prayers  for 
the  Dead"). 

James  D.  Aylward  :  Dublin,  1846. 

H.  H.  Brownell :  Xew  York,  1847. 

■-'•Abraham  Coles  (m.d.  and  ll. d.): 
New  York,  1847  fiqq.  Seventeen  transla- 
tions between  1847  and  Aug.,  1889.  Two  of 
them  often  reprinted.  Sce])p.  154,155,165. 

Lord  A.  W.  C.  Lindsay :  London, 
1847.     Seep.  164. 

*  William  J.  Irons  :  London,  1848. 
First  printed  on  a  fly-leaf  and  very  often 
republished  in  hymn  books  and  other 
collections.     See  ]>.  155. 


Matthew  Bridges  :  London,  1848. 
J.  Newton  Brown  :  New  York,  1848. 
Richard  Dalton  Williams  :  1848. 

*  Edward  Caswall :  "  Lyra  Catholica," 
London,  1849.  Many  reprints.  See  pp. 
154,  164. 

Brahazon  William  Disney  :  Dublin, 
1849.     (See  Brit.  Mus.  Catal.) 
Arthur  E.  Rowan  :  Dublin,  1849. 
Robert  Campbell :  Edinburgh,  1850. 
Howel  W.  Lloyd  :  London  (?),  1850. 

*  William  R.  Williams  (r>.  c,  Baptist 
minister  in  New  York)  :  New  York,  1850. 
Seep.  158. 

William  John  Blew  :  London,  1851. 

Charles  Porterfield  Krauth :  Balti- 
more, 1851.  (•'  Literal,  without  rliyme," 
Edmunds.) 

■'■■Arthur  Tozer  Russell:  2  versions. 
liondon,  1851. 

Epes  Sargent:  New  York,  1852  and 
1867.     See  p.  167. 

•*  William  G.  Dix  :  New  York, '^  Lit- 
erary World,"  Dee.  1 1,  1 852.     Sec  p.  1 66. 

Anonymous:  ''Z.,"  in  "Lit.  World," 
New  York,  Dec.  11,  1852. 

R.  G.  Loraine  :  1854.  "Libretto  to 
Mozart's  Ptequiem." 

S.  Dryden  Phelps  :  New  York,  1855. 

James  Aitken  Johnstone  :  1856. 

H.  Jas.  BuckoU  :  "  Pugby  School  Col- 
lection," 1857. 

W.  Bright  (d.  d.,  Professor  of  Church 
History  in  Oxford)  :  London,  1858. 

■■^-  Mrs.  Elizabeth  Charles  :  London, 
1858.     Sec  pp.  143  and  164. 

Richard  Furman:  Charleston,  1859. 

John  William  Hewett:  London,  1859. 

W.  Snyden  (Methodist  New  Connec- 
tion): 1859. 

Anonymous  :  "  Somniator,"  Philadel- 
phia, 1859  and  18G0.     P.  166. 

C.  Z.Weiser:  Philadelphia,  1859.  P. 
167. 

Mrs.  F.  J.  Partridge  :  London,  1860. 
Repeated. 

Robert  Davidson:  New  York,  1860. 
P.  167. 

Dr.  Noris:  1860. 

Charles  Rockwell :  New  York,  1S60. 
P.  167. 


THE  DIES  lE^. 


185 


P.  S.  Worsley :  In  '<  Blackwood's 
Magazine,"  :May,  ISGO. 

•••Adolplie  Peries  (a  merchant  of  Phila- 
delphia) :  Philadelphia,  1801.     P.  1()9. 

Herbert  Kyuaston  :  London,  1S()2. 

George  Alex.  Crooke  :  Philadelphia, 
1SG,3. 

•'•  Jolrn  Adams  Dix  :  Cambridge,  lSo3 
(priv.  print.),  often  reprinted.  A  second 
version,  containing  tlic  author's  reasons 
for  feeling  dissatisfied  with  the  first, 
Cambridge,  1S75  (priv.  print.),  and  in 
"Scribner's  Monthly,"  New  York,  1876. 
The  variations  of  the  two  versions  are 
printed  in  parallel  columns  in  General 
Dix's  Memoirs  by  his  son.  Dr.  Morgan 
Dix,  of  Trinity  Church,  Is^cw  York,  lS8:j, 
II.,  371,-  with  several  letters  containing 
critical  estimates  of  the  first  version,  II., 
234-9.     P.  1G8. 

Crammond  Kennedy;  In  "American 
Baptist,"  Xew  York,  April,  1803. 

Anonymous  :  1864. 

James  Ross:  In  "Xew  York  Ob- 
server," 1S04-. 

Anonymous:  London,  1864. 

C.  B.  Cayley  :  London,  1864. 

Francis  Trappes:  London,  1865. 

Marshall  H.  Bright :  New  York,  1866 
(priv.  print.). 

Anonymous  :  Boston.  In  "  Litttell's 
Living  Age,"  Aug.  11,  1806. 

W.  H.  Robinson:  London,  1866. 

J.  W.  Slater :  3  versions,  unrhymed, 
1866. 

"■•'•Edward  Slosson  :  New  York,  1866, 
See  p.  109. 

Anonymous:  In '' New  York  Evening 
Post,"  July  20,  1866.     See  p.  169. 

■'■■Erastus  C.  Benedict:  3  versions, 
1864-'67.     P.  169. 

CM.  Dodd:  1867.    P.  170. 

Benjamin  Johnson:  Atlanta,  Ga., 
1867. 

Anonymous:  "Round  Table,"  New 
York,  Feb.  23,  1867.  ("Contains  two 
cantos,  made  by  D.  A.  C.  from  the  ver- 
sions of  Coles,  Irons,  Dix,  Slosson,  and 
Caswall."     Edmands.) 

Anonymous:  Boston.  In  "' Littell's 
Living  Age,"  Jan.  26,  1867. 


John  Wesley  Thomas  :  1867. 

Roger  S.  Tracy :  In  "  New  York  Even- 
ing Post,"  Jan.,  1808. 

■■^Arthur  P.  Stanley  (Dean  of  West- 
minster, d.  1881) :  In  Macmillan's  "Maga- 
zine," for  December,  1808,  pp.  167-'69, 
Avith  an  introductory  note  by  the  Dean, 
in  which  he  states  that  he  freely  used  the 
versions  of  Walter  Scott,  Trench  and 
Irons.  10  stanzas  of  6  lines  each.  (Mr. 
Edmands  dates  this  version  from  1864, 
but  was  unable  to  give  me  his  authority. 
It  may  have  been  first  privately  ])rinted.) 
Seep.  170. 

J.  Hoskyns  Abrahall :  In  "Christian 
Remembrancer,"  London,  Jan.,  1808.  A 
paraphrastic  translation  in  17  stanzas  of 
0  lines  each.     See  p.  170. 

Mrs.  Margaret  Junkin  Preston  :  In 
the  "  Presbyterian,"  Pliiladeljjhia,  Jan. 
18,  1868  (but  the  version  was  made  in 
1851). 

R.  Holt  Hutton :  In  the  London 
"Spectator"  for  March  7,  1868.  See  p. 
170. 

Philip  Schaif :  New  York,  1868.  See 
p.  159. 

Robert  Corbet  Singleton :  London, 
1808. 

Horace  Castle :  1809. 

Anonymous:  In  "  Lippincott's  Maga- 
zine," Philadelphia,  1809. 

*  Samuel  W.  Dufiield :  1870.  Eive 
versions.     See  p.  158. 

Asahel  C.  Kendrick :  New  York,  1870. 

W.  Cooke  :  In  the  "Ilymnary,"  1871. 

John  D.  van  Buren  :   Albany,  1872. 

Anonymous:  Signed  "Trinity,"  in 
"  The  Churchman,"  March  9,  1872,  New 
York. 

John  Anketell :  "Am.  Church  Re- 
view," New  York,  1873. 

C.  A.Walworth:  "Catholic  World," 
New  York,  1873. 

Charles  H.  A.  Esling:  "Catholic 
Record,"  Philadelphia,  March,  1874. 

Charles  Kent :  London,  1874. 

John  O'Hagan  :  Dublin,  1874.   P.  171. 

John  Wallace  :  London,  1874. 

Anonymous  :  Messenger  of  the  Sacred 
Heart,  1875. 


186 


THE  DIES  IR.E. 


Hamilton  M.  Macgill:  London,  1S76. 

Mrs.  Emily  Righton  :  1S76. 

William  Mcllvaine:  Belfast,  1878. 

Samuel  J.  Watson  :  1S7S. 

William  W.  Nevin  :  In  "The  Press," 
Philadelpliia.  Jan.  IS,  1S7S. 

Osmund  Seager:  London,  1878. 
J.  Howard  West:  Gettvsbiii-g,Pa.,1878. 

Oliver  Crane  :  Hartford,  1879. 

Nathaniel  B.  Smithers  :  1879. 

Joel  Swartz  :  In  *'  Lutheran  Ob- 
server," Philadelphia.  Aug.  22,  1879. 

Orlando  Dobbin :  1879. 

William  B.  Robertson  :  "  Presbyte- 
rian Hymnal,"  Philadelphia,  1879. 

D.  T.  Morgan:  London,  1880. 

D.  Y.  Heisler:  In  "Reformed  Quar- 
terly Review,"  1880. 

Randolph  W.  Lowrie :  In  "The 
Churchman,"  Xew  York,  April  3,  1880. 

Anonymous  :  1880. 

Charles  Elliot:  In  "The  Standard," 
Chicago,  Feb.  24,  1881. 

Anatole  Police  :  London,  1881. 

Matthias  Sheeleigh :  In  "  Lutheran 
Observer,"  Philadelphia,  May  20,  1881. 

James  A.  Whitney  :  "  New  York  Ob- 
server," May  19,  1S81. 

*  Henry  C.  Lea:  Philadelphia,  1882. 
"Translations  and  other  rhymes"  (priv. 
print.). 

Joseph  J.  Marrin :  "  Catholic  "\Yorld," 
New  York,  1882. 

Emily  Clemens  Pearson :  Hartford, 
1882. 


■'•Thomas  C.  Porter:  Philadelphia, 
1882.     See  p.  159. 

Miss  Elizabeth  Cleveland :  New  York 
"Independent,"  April  12,  1883. 

William  John  Copeland  :  "  Dublin 
Review,"  Jan.,  1883.    P.  173. 

W.  Hilton:  "Dublin  Review,"  1883. 

-■•  Franklin  Johnson :  Cambridge, 
Mass.,  1883.     See  p.  171. 

M.  Woolsey  Stryker:  New  York 
"Evangelist,"  Nov.,  18S3.  Another  ver- 
sion, April  3,  1SG4. 

-Thomas  MacKellar  :  Philadelphia, 
1883. 

James  D.  Aylward:  "Dublin  Re- 
view," April,  18S3.  Two  versions  in 
single  rhymes.     P.  171. 

John  Mason  Brown :  "  Catholio 
World,"  New  A'ork,  Nov.,  1SS4. 

George  M.  Davie  :  "  Catholic  "World," 
New  York,  Nov.,  1884.     P.  172. 

Henry  Rawes :  1884  (fly-sheet;  un- 
rhymed). 

*  Hon.  John  Hayes  (ll.d.,  Cambridge, 
Mass.):  In  "The  Independent,"  New 
York,  Dec.  30,  1886.     P.  172. 

«JohnS.  Hager:  In  "The  Overland 
Monthly,"  San  Francisco,  1886  (Vol.  VII., 
630).     P.  172. 

*  W.  G.  McKenzie  :  Boston,  1887  and 


1889.     Two  versions. 


;ee  p. 


161. 


Alfred  H.  Fahnestock  :  "  Presbyterian 
Journal,"  Philadelphia,  July  22,  1889. 
See  p.  172. 


This  list  gives  us  over  one  hundred  and  fifty  translations  (counting  Coles 
17,  Benedict  3,  Dufiield  5,  Dix  2,  McKenzie  2,  and  omitting  the  anony- 
mous) from  ministers  and  laymen  of  various  denominations — Roman 
Catholic,  Episcopalian,  Presbyterian,  Baptist,  etc.  No  hymn  has  such  a 
histoiy.  Next  to  it  comes,  perhaps,  Luther's  EiN  feste  Burg,  of  which 
Rev.  Dr.  B.  Pick,  of  Allegheny  (as  he  informed  me),  has  collected  131 
versions  in  all  languages. 

One  good  translation  is  worth  a  hundred  poor  ones  and  will  outlive 
them.  IVIany  were  stillborn,  or  not  born  at  all.  But  the  ever-increasing 
number  is  a  proof  of  the  popularity  and  untranslatableness  of  the  Dies 
iRiE,  the  greatest  religious  lyric  of  all  ages. 


THE  STABAT  MATER  DOLOROSA. 

There  are  two  mediaeval  hymns  which  begin  with  the  words 
Stabat  Mater.  They  resemble  each  other  like  twin  sisters,  or 
rather  like  mother  and  daughter.  Both  are  dedicated  to  the 
Virgin  Mary,  one  to  Mary  at  the  Cross,  the  other  to  Mary  at 
the  Cradle,  of  the  Saviour.  One  is  a  Good-Friday  hymn,  the 
other  is  a  Christmas  hymn.  Both  breathe  the  same  burning  love 
to  Christ  and  his  Mother  and  the  desire  to  become  identified 
with  her  by  sympathy  in  the  intensity  of  her  grief  and  her  joy. 
They  are  the  same  in  structure,  and  excel  alike  in  the  touching 
music  of  language  and  the  soft  cadence  that  echoes  the  senti- 
ment. Both  describe  first  the  situation,  then  identify  the  author 
with  the  situation,  and  address  the  Virgin  as  an  object  of  that 
worship  which  the  Roman  Church  claims  for  her  as  the  Mother 
of  the  Saviour  and  the  Queen  of  Saints.  Both  bear  the  impress 
of  mediasval  piety  and  of  the  monastic  order  which  gave  them 
birth. 

The  Good-Friday  hymn  has  long  been  known  under  the 
name  of  Stabat  Mater^  and  admired  as  the  most  pathetic  poem 
of  Latin  church  poetry,  inferior  only  to  the  more  sublime  and 
impressive  Dies  Ie^e  ;  the  Christmas  hymn  has  recently  been 
brought  to  light,  and  is  a  worthy  companion,  though  of  inferior 
merit.  We  may  hereafter  distinguish  the  two  as  the  Mateb 
Dolorosa  and  thf.  Mater  Speciosa. 


187 


188 


THE  STABAT  ISIATER  DOLOEOSA. 


THE  MATER  DOLOROkSA. 

The  Latin  original  from  the  Roman  Missal,  with  textual  variations. 

6 


I.  Stabat  Mater  dolorosa 
Juxta  crucem  lacrymosa, 

Dum^  pendebat  Filius, 
Cujus  animam  gementem 
Contristatam^  ac  dolentem 

Pertransivit  giadius. 


Sancta  Mater,  istud  agas 
Crucifix!  fige  plagas 

Cordi  meo  valide.' 
Tui  nati  vulnerati 
Tarn  dignati  pro  me  pati 

Poenas  mecum  divide. 


2.  O  quam  tristis  et  afflicta 
Fuit  ilia  benedicta 

Mater  Unigeniti ! 
Quae  mcerebat  et  dolebat 
Et  tremebat,  cum^  videbat 

Nati  poenas  inclyti. 


Fac  me  tecum  vere  flere* 
Crucifixo  condolere, 

Donee  ego  vixero. 
Juxta  crucem  tecum  stare 
Te  libenter  sociare,^ 

In  planctu  desidero. 


Quis  est  homo,  qui  non  fleret, 
Matrem  Christi*  si  videret 

In  tanto  supplicio  ? 
Quis  non  posset  contristari, 
Piam  Matrem  contemplari 

Dolentem  cum  Filio. 


8.  Virgo  virginum  praeclara 
Mihi  tam^°  non  sis  amara, 

Fac  me  tecum  plangere. 
Fac  ut  portem  Christi  mortem 
Passionis  fac  consortem^^ 
Et  plagas  ^2  recolere.13 


Pro  peccatis  suae  gentis 
Vidit  Jesum  in  tormentis 

Et  flagellis  subditum, 
Vidlt  suum  dulcem  natum 
Morientem,^  desolatum, 

Dum  emisit  spiritum. 


c,\  Fac  me  plagis  vulnerari 
Cruce  hac  inebriari^^ 
Ob  amorem  Filii. 
Inflammatus  et  accensus 
Por  te,  Virgo,  ^5  sim  defensus 
In  die  judicii. 


Eia^  Mater,  fons  amoris  ! 
Me  sentire  vim  doloris 

Fac,  ut  tecum  lugeam. 
Fac,  ut  ardeat  cor  meum 
In  amando  Christum  Deum 

Ut  si^i  complaceam. 


Fac  me  cruce  custodiri, 
Morte  Christi  praemuniri, 

Confoveri  gratia.^ ^ 
Quando  corpus  morietur 
Fac  ut  animse  donetur 

Paradisi  gloria.^* 


THE  ST  A  BAT  MATER  DOLOROSA.  189 

Textual  variatioxs. 
^Alii :  qua,  sc.  cruce.     So  also  ]\[one.    ^  :Mone  et  al. :  contristanicm. 
^  Mone  :  dum.  •*  Mone  :   Chridi  Matrcm. 

^  Moue  :  Jloriendo. 

^  So  the  Missal,  Stella,  Daniel.     Other  MSS.  read  pm. 
"  Al.  :  vivide. 

*  Stella  aud  Mone  better  :  vcre  iccum  ficre. 
^  Moue  et  al.  better  :  JTcque  (or  d  me)  iihi  sociare. 
^°  Mone  :  jam. 

^^  Stella  :  ^ass/on/s  cius  sortcm.     xVl. :  sum  sortem 
^  2  Al.  :  pcenam.  ^  ^  Al.  :  plagis  fe  colere. 

^*  Mone  aud  others  :  Cruceque  (or  Cruce  fac)  me  fac  heari.  An  attempt  to 
weaken  the  force  aud  audacity  of  the  author's  metaphor — the  drunkenness 
of  love. 

^  ^  Al.  :  pia.  ^  ^  Moue  and  others  : — 

"  Christe,  cum  sit  Jiinc  transire, 
Da  per  JTatrem  me  venire 
Ad  paJmam  victorise.''^ 
^ '  Wackemagel  adds  from  mediaeval  jNISS.  the  first  half  of  an  eleventh 
stanza  where  the  author,  as  in  the  variation  of  the  tenth  stanza  just  quoted 
from  Mone  (il.,  147),  addresses  himself  to  Christ  directly  : — 
^^Christe,  cum  sit  Jiinc  exire, 
Da  per  Matrcm  me  venire 
Ad  palmam  victorise,''^ 
The  text  of  Georgius  Stella  (chancellor  and  historian  of  Genoa,  d.  about 
1420),  which  is  given  by  Daniel  [Tlies.   HymnoJ.  Ii.,  131  sq.),  inserts  three 
additional  stanzas  of  inferior  merit,  as  follows  : — 

3.  Quis  no n  potest  contristari, 
Ilatrem  Christi  contemplari 

DoJentem  cum  Filio. 
In  me  sistat  dolor  tui, 
Crucifixo  fac  me  frui 

Dum  sum  in  exilio. 

4.  Hunc  dolorem  fac  me  moestu^n, 
Kec  me  facias  aJienum 

Ah  hoc  desiderio.  ^i\ 

Ilium  corde,  ilium  ore. 
Semper  f cram  cum  dolore 
Et  mentis  martyrio. 

9.  Alma  salus.  advocata 
3Iortc  Christi  desolata, 
Miserere  popidi ; 
Virgo  dulcis,  virgo  pia, 
Virgo  clemens,  o  3Iaria, 
Audi  preces  servuH. 


190  THE  STAB  AT  MATER  DOLOROSA. 

CHARACTER  AND  HISTORY  OF  THE  HYMN. 

The  Mater  Dolorosa — usually  called  the  Stabat  Mater^ 
also  the  Lament  of  the  Blessed  Virgin'^ — is  a  passion  hymn 
which  describes  the  intense  suffering  of  Mary  at  the  cross  of  her 
Divine-human  Son  as  He  offered  himself  a  sacrifice  for  the 
sins  of  the  world.  It  expresses  in  words  what  Carlo  Dolce  and 
other  painters  of  the  Mater  Dolorosa  express  in  color.  It  is 
based  on  the  prophecy  of  the  aged  Simeon,  who  said  to  Mary  in 
the  Temple:  ^^  A  sword  shall  pierce  through  thine  own  soul  ^' 
(Luke  ii.,  35)^  and  on  the  last  interview  of  our  Lord  with  his 
earthly  mother,  wdien  she  stood  with  her  sister  (Salome,  the 
mother  of  St.  John)  and  two  other  women  (Mary  wife  of  Cleo- 
phas,  and  Mary  Magdalene)  by  the  cross,  and  when  He  com- 
mended her  to  the  beloved  disciple  and  the  beloved  disciple  to 
her  (John,  xix.,  25).  From  the  former  passage  the  poet  borrowed 
the  last  line  of  the  first  sta.nza  (pertranslvit  gladius) ;  from  the 
latter  he  took  the  opening  sentence,  according  to  the  Latin 
version  [''  Stabat  mater  jicxta  crucem  ejus  ^').  The  first  two  words 
of  this  version  furnished  the  key-note  and  gave  the  name  to  the 
poem;  as  the  prophetic  words  of  Zephania:  ^^ Dies  Ircey'^  gave 
theme  and  title  to  the  judgment  hymn  of  Thomas  a  Celano. 

This  touching  incident  in  the  history  of  the  Passion — that  most 
amazing  spectacle  ever  presented  to  the  gaze  of  heaven  and 
earth — has  never  found  a  more  impressive  expression  than  in 
this  hymn.  It  describes  first  the  agony  of  the  mother  of  the 
dying  Saviour,  and  then  prays  to  be  identified  w^ith  her  suffering 
and  with  his  crucifixion,  that  dying  to  sin,  he  may  stand  in  the 
day  of  judgment  and  partake  of  Christ's  glory  in  heaven. 

The  Mater  Dolorosa  is  by  common  consent  the  most 
tender  and  pathetic  of  Latin  hymns.  Daniel  calls  it  "  the  queen 
of  sequences.^' ^  It  is  inferior  to  the  Dies  Irje  in  force  and  majesty, 
but  equal  in  melody,  and  superior  in  tenderness.     The  difference 

^  Plancius  Beaise  Virginis,  or  Sequeniia  de  Scptem  DQlorihus  B.  VirginiSj  or 
De  Comjjassione  B.  V. 

2  Tlics.  Ilymnol.^Y.  59.  The  term  sequcntin  or  prosayvas  first  applied  to 
hymns  in  rhythmical  prose  which  followed  the  Alleluia  after  the  reading  of 
the  Epistle,  and  afterwards  to  rhymed  hymns  as  well.  See  Schaflf,  Church 
Misloru^  vol.  IV.,  430. 


THE  STABAT  MATER  DOLOROSA.  191 

corresponds  to  the  theme :  one  is  a  judgment  hymn,  and  hence 
solemn,  awful,  overpowering,  like  "The  Day  of  Wrath";  the 
otlier  is  a  passion  hymn,  and  hence  tender,  touching  and  sym- 
pathetic, like  Mary  standing  at  the  cross.  Both  breathe  the 
same  spirit  of  profound  repentance  and  glowing  love  to  Christ. 

The  secret  of  the  power  of  the  Mater  Dolorosa  lies  in  the 
intensity  of  feeling  with  which  the  poet  identifies  himself 
with  his  theme,  and  in  the  soft,  plaintive  melody  of  its  Latin 
rhythm  and  rhyme,  which  cannot  be  transferred  to  any  other 
language.  It  draws  the  reader  irresistibly  into  sympathy  with 
the  agony  described,  and  makes  him  a  fellow-sufferer  with  Mary. 
It  fills  him  with  o-nef  for  his  own  sins  which  have  cost  such  a 
sacrifice,  and  with  gratitude  for  the  love  of  the  Sou  of  God,  who 
spared  not  his  own  life  for  our  redemption.^ 

The  only  objectionable  feature  in  this  incomparable  poem  is 
a  touch  of  what  Protestants  call  Mariolatry,  which  excludes 
it  from  evangelical  hymn  books  unless  the  prayer  to  Mary  be 
changed  into  a  prayer  to  Christ.^  It  fixes  the  pious  contempla- 
tion on  the  human  mother  rather  than  her  Divine  Son,  and 
ascribes  to  her  the  functions  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  There  breathes 
also  through  the  ninth  stanza  a  morbid  passion  for  the  miracle  of 
stigmatization  which  the  legend  reports  of  St.  Francis  of  Assisi. 
But  we  must  judge  the  poet  from  the  standpoint  of  mediaeval 
piety,  and  not  forget  that  some  truth  underlies  every  error  of  the 

^  Dr.  Coles  {Siabat  3Tatcr,  p.  6)  thus  characterizes  the  author:  "He  has 
clairvoyance  aud  second  sight.  The  distant  and  the  past  are  made  to  him  a 
virtual  here  and  now.  He  is  in  Italy,  hut  he  is  also  in  Judaea.  He  lives 
in  the  thirteenth  century,  hut  is  an  eye  witness  of  the  crucifixion  in  the 
beginning  of  the  first.  He  has  immediate  vision.  All  that  is  transpiring  on 
Golgotha  is  distinctly  pictured  on  the  retina  of  his  mind's  eye.  And  by  the 
light  which  is  in  him  he  photographs  what  he  sees  for  the  use  of  others.  His 
ecee  !  is  no  pointless  indication,  but  an  actual  showing.  The  wail  he  utters 
is  a  veritable  echo  of  that  which  goes  up  from  the  cross.  Everything  is  true 
to  nature  and  to  life."  .  .  .  "He  prays  that  he  maybe  permitted  to 
bear  a  part,  not  in  the  way  of  sympathy  merely,  but  of  suffering  also,  and 
this  too,  the  same  both  in  kind  and  degree  ;  that  euduring  stripe  for  stripe, 
wound  for  wound,  there  might  be  to  him  in  every  stage  of  the  Redeemer's 
passion,  groan  answering  to  groan." 

-  Tliis  is  done  by  ^lonsell,  Knapp  and  other  Protestant  translators.  See 
Schaff's  DcM^scAes  Gemiujhuch,  No.  117. 


192  THE  STAB  AT  MATER  DOLOROSA. 

Roman  Church  and  gives  it  such  a  hold  on  the  pious  feelings 
of  her  members.  It  is,  after  all,  Christ's  sufferings  which  were 
reflected  in  Mary's  agony ;  as  it  is  the  heavenly  beauty  of  the 
Christ-child  which  shines  on  the  face  of  the  Madonnas  of  Ra- 
ph.ael.  We  must  also  give  to  Roman  Catholics  credit  for  their 
distinction  between  different  kinds  of  worship;  adoration  (Jatria), 
which  belongs  to  God  alone ;  veneration  (dulia),  which  is  due  to 
Saints  in  the  presence  of  God ;  and  a  special  degree  of  venera- 
tion or  semi-adoration  which  is  claimed  for  the  Virgin  Mary,  as 
the  Mother  of  the  Saviour  and  the  Queen  of  Saints  in  heaven. 
They  do  not  pray  to  Mary  as  the  giver  of  the  mercies  desired, 
but  only  as  the  interceder,  thinking  that  she  is  more  likely  to 
prevail  with  her  Son  than  any  poor  unaided  sinner  on  earth. 

The  poem  soon  became  popular.  It  was  spread  all  over 
Europe  by  the  Flagellants  or  Brethren  of  the  Cross  (Crucij ratines, 
Cruciferi)  in  their  penitential  processions.  It  gradually  found  a 
place  in  almost  every  breviary  and  missal,  and,  with  slight 
changes,  in  many  evangelical  hymn  books.  Its  charm  is  felt  by 
every  man  of  religious  feeling  and  poetic  taste,  and  even  by  per- 
sons who  have  little  religious  sympathy  with  the  theme. 

"The  loveliness  of  sorrow,''  says  the  German  poet  Tieck,^ 
speaking  of  the  Stabat  Mater  and  Pergolesi's  composition,  ^' m 
the  depth  of  pain,  the  smiling  in  tears,  the  childlike  simplicity, 
which  touches  on  the  highest  heaven,  had  to  me  never  before 
risen  so  bright  in  tl>e  soul.  I  had  to  turn  away  to  hide  my  tears, 
especially  at  the  place, 

'  Videt  suiim  didcem  natum.''  " 

Goethe  had  this  poem  in  mind  when  he  put  this  prayer  into 
the  mouth  of  Margaret  as  she  looked  with  a  guilty  conscience  at 
a  picture  of  the  Mater  Dolorosa : — 

"  JLc/i  neige, 
Dii,  SclimerzenretcJiG 
Deiii  AntUtz  gnddig  mcincr  Noth! 

Das  Seine ert  im  Herzcn^ 

Mit  tausend  Schmerzoi 

Blicli'st  avfzu  deines  SoJutes  Tod. 

^  Tieck's  rhant(if<us^  quoted  by  Lisco  aud  Daniel  (ii.,  139  sq.'l. 


THE   STAB  AT   MATER  DOLOROSA.  193 

Ziim  Vafcr  hllclst  du, 

Unci  Seufzer  scldcJxst  J  a 

Ilinai'f  um  sein^  und  deinc  Koth.^^ 

The  Mater  Dolorosa  has  furnished  the  text  to  some  of  the 
noblest  musical  compositions  by  Palestrina,  Pergolesi,  Astorga, 
Haydn,  Bellini,  Rossini,  Xeukomm.  That  of  Palestrina  is  still 
annually  performed  in  the  Sistine  chapel  during  Passion  week, 
and  draws  thousands  of  eager  listeners  of  all  creeds.  That  of 
Pergolesi,  the  last  and  most  celebrated  of  his  works,  has  never 
been  surpassed,  if  equaled,  in  the  estimation  of  critics.  Of  these 
melodies  it  has  been  said : — 

'"''  Es  horen,  urnn  die  d'(s  Schioert  im  tief  zerrv^srnen  Busen 
Der  gotdldieii  Mutter  heiceinst,  miticeinende  E)igel  dir  zu.''^ 

FRANCIS  OF  ASSIST.     JACOBUS  DE  BEXEDICTIS. 

The  reputed  author  of  the  Mater  Dolorosa  is  Giacomo 
DA  ToDi,  better  known  as  Giacopone  or  Jacopone.  His 
proper  name  w\as  Jacobus  de  Bexedictis,  or  Giacoma  de 
Benedetti,  being  a  descendant  of  the  noble  family  of  the 
Benedetti  at  Todi,  in  Umbria,  in  Italy.  He  was  an  older  con- 
temporary of  Dante,  and  lived  in  the  latter  part  of  the  thirteenth 
and  beginning  of  the  fourteenth  century. 

He  successfully  studied  and  practiced  law,  but  was  converted 
in  consequence  of  the  sudden  death  of  his  wife  in  a  theatre  which 
broke  down  during  the  performance  of  a  popular  play.  He 
withdrew  from  the  world,  sold  his  goods  for  the  benefit  of  the 
poor,  and  joined  the  order  of  the  Franciscans,  remaining,  how- 
ever, merely  a  lay  brother.  This  Order,  founded  by  St.  Francis 
of  Assisi  (1182-1226),  was  then  still  in  the  fervor  of  the  first 
love,  and  carried  away  many  of  the  noblest  and  most  enthusiastic 
youths. 

The  ruling  idea  and  aim  of  the  order  was  the  literal  imita- 
tion of  the  poor  and  humble  life  of  Christ.  St.  Francis  died  of 
the  wounds  of  Christ,  which  are  said  to  have  impressed  them- 
selves on  his  hands  and  side  by  a  miracle,  or,  perhaps,  through 
the  plastic  power  of  an  imagination  intoxicated  with  the  con- 
templation and  love  of  the  crucified  Kedeemer.  He  was  himself 
a  poet,  loved  all  creatures  of  God,  and  preached  to  the  sun  and 
13 


194  THE  STABAT  MATER  DOLOROSA. 

moon,  to  birds  and  fishes  as  his  brothers  and  sisters.  He  may 
be  called  the  father  of  Italian  hymnology.  He  was  the  first  to 
use  the  vulgar  Italian  speech  for  religious  poetry  in  place  of  the 
Latin.  His  "  Song  of  the  Sun  '^  (Cantico  del  Sole)  or  ''  Song  of 
the  Creatures'^  (Cantico  delle  Creature)^  although  not  mentioned 
as  his  before  1385,  was  probably  written  about  1224,  two  years 
before  his  death,  and  nearly  a  century  before  Dante  finished  his 
Divina  Commediay  which  created  a  national  Italian  literature. 
I  give  a  translation  of  this  unique  hymn  with  its  irregular  cadence, 
broken  rhymes  and  faltering  measures,  which  was  sung  in  his 
convent  every  day.  It  faithfully  expresses  the  childlike  sim- 
plicity, naivete  and  all-embracing  love  of  the  piety  of  St. 
Francis,  that  "  seraphic  stranger  on  earth.''  ^ 

^  Ozanam,  Les  Poetes  Franciscains  en  lialie  au  treizieme  siccle  (Paris,  third 
ed.  1859),  p.  73„  says  :  "  ie  Cantique  dii  Soleil  est  ciU pour  la  premiere  fois  par 
Barthelemy  de  Pise,  dans  un  livre  erit  en  1385,  cent  soixante  ans  aprts  la  mort 
du  saint,  et  eependant  on  nepeu  en  contester  Vauthenticite.  .  .  .  Lepoeme  de  saint 
Frangois  est  Men  court,  et  eependant  on  y  trouve  toute  son  dmc :  sa  fraternelle 
amitie  pour  les  creatures;  la  charite  qui  poussait  cet  homme  humUe  et  iimide  d 
iravcrs  les  querelles  puhliques;  cet  amour  infini,  qui  aprts  avoir  cherche  Dieii 
dans  la  nature  e  V  avoir  servi  dans  V  humanity  souffrante,  n''  aspir  ait  plus  qu^dle 
trouver  dans  la  mort.  .  .  .  Ce  n' est  qu^  un  cri ;  maisc^ est  le premier  cri  dhmepo^sie 
naissante,  qui  grandira  et  qui  saura  se  faire  entendre  de  toute  la  terre.''^  An 
admirable  description.  Ozanam  gives  a  French  prose  translation  of  the  poem, 
p,  71-73,  Mrs,  Oliphant  an  English  version  quoted  above,  in  Ch.  xv  of  her 
charming  monograph  on  Francis  of  Assisi,  published  by  Macmillan  &  Co., 
London.  These  are  the  first  three  stanzas  of  the  original  (from  Ozanam, 
p.  339):— 

1.  ''^Altissimo  omnipotente  hon  Signorc, 

Tue  son  le  laude,  la  gloria,  e  Vonore, 

Et  ogni  hcncdiciione  : 

A  te  solo  se  confano, 
Et  nulla  liomo  e  degno  di  nominar  /e." 

2.  Laudato  sia  Dio  mio  Signore 
Cum  tutte  le  tue  creature^ 
Specialmcnte  messer  lo  frate  Sole  : 

Lo  quale  giorna  et  illumina  nui  per  lui, 

Et  ello  ^  hello  et  radianie  cum  grande  splendore : 

De  te  Signore  porta  signijicatione. ' ' 

^^ Laudato  sin  mio  Signore  j^er  sor  Luna  et  per  Ic  Slelle: 
In  celo  le  hai  formate  dare  e  belle.'' ^ 


THE  STAB  AT  MATER  DOLOROSA.  195 

"  Highest  omnipotent  good  Lord, 
Glory  and  honor  to  Thy  name  adored, 

And  praise  and  every  blessing  : 

Of  ever3^thing  Thou  art  the  source, 
No  man  is  worthy  to  pronounce  Thy  name. 

"  Praised  by  His  creatures  all, 
Praised  be  the  Lord  in}"  God, 
By  Messer  Sun,  my  brother  above  all, 

Who  by  his  raj^s  lights  us  and  lights  the  day 
Radiant  is  he,  with  his  great  splendor, 
Thy  glory,  Lord,  confessing. 

"By  Sister  Moon  and  Stars  my  Lord  is  praised, 
Where  clear  and  fair  they  in  the  heavens  are  raised. 

"By  Brother  Wind,  my  Lord,  Thy  prais3  is  said, 
By  air  and  clouds  and  the  blue  sky  o'erhead, 
By  which  Thy  creatures  all  are  kept  and  fed. 

"By  one  most  humble,  useful,  precious,  chaste, 
By  Sister  Water,  0  my  Lord,  Thou  art  praised. 

' '  And  praised  is  my  Lord 
By  Brother  Fire — he  who  lights  up  the  night 
Jocund,  robust  is  he,  and  strong  and  bright. 


"  Praised  art  Thou,  my  Lord,  by  3Iother  Earth — 
Thou  who  sustainest  her,  and  governest. 
And  to  her  flowers,  fruit,  herbs,  dost  color  give  and  birth. ' ' 

This  is  the  original  hymn.    St.  Francis  afterward  on  a  special 
occasion  added  the  following  verse: — 

' '  And  praised  is  my  Lord 
By  those  who,  for  Thy  love,  can  pardon  give, 
And  bear  the  weakness  and  the  wrongs  of  men. 
Blessed  are  those  who  suffer  thus  in  peace. 
By  Thee,  the  Highest,  to  be  crowned  in  heaven. ' ' 

A  little  later,  when  weak  and  worn  out  by  bodily  suiferings 
and  his  labors  for  humanity,  on  being  warned  in  a  vision  that 


196  THE  STABAT  MATER  DOLOROSA. 

in  two  years  he  would  enter  into  his  eternal  rest,  he  greeted 
death  in  this  concluding  stanza : — 

"Praised  by  our  Sister  Death,  my  Lord,  art  Thou, 
From  whom  no  living  man  escapes. 
Who  die  in  mortal  sin  have  mortal  woe  ; 

But  blessed  they  who  die  doing  Thy  will, — 
The  second  death  can  strike  at  them  no  blow. 

' '  Praises,  and  thanks,  and  blessing  to  my  Master  be  : 
Serve  ye  Him  all,  with  great  humility. ' ' 

Animated  by  the  spirit  of  St.  Francis,  Jacopone  went  to 
fanatical  extremes  in  his  zeal  for  ascetic  holiness  and  spiritual 
martyrdom.  He  endeavored  by  self-sought  tortures  to  atone  for 
his  own  sins,  and  to  "  fill  up  that  which  is  behind  in  the  afflic- 
tions of  Christ,'^  for  the  good  of  others.  He  was  subject  to  fits 
of  insanity.  The  world  called  him  a  crank,  or  a  fool,  or  a  genius 
run  mad.  To  grow  in  the  grace  of  humility  he  exposed  himself 
to  the  ridicule  of  contemporaries  by  the  oddity  of  his  appearance 
and  conduct.  He  literally  became  a  fool  for  Christ.  At  one 
time  during  public  plays  at  Todi,  he  is  said  to  have  suddenly 
appeared  among  the  crowd  almost  in  puris  naturalibus,  with  a 
saddle  on  his  back  and  a  bridle  in  his  mouth,  walking  on  all 
fours  like  a  horse.  Perhaps  he  wished  to  imitate  the  Hebrew 
Prophets  in  their  symbolic  actions  to  arouse  attention  and  to 
impress  more  deeply  his  lessons  of  wisdom.  Among  the  early 
Quakers  we  find  similar  excesses  of  abnormal  piety.  He  was 
called  GiACOPONE,  or  the  Great  Jacob,  at  first  in  derision, 
perhaps  also  to  distinguish  him  from  the  many  Jacobs  among 
the  Franciscans.  For  the  syllabic  suffix  one  in  Italian  indicates 
greatness  or  elevation ;  as  alberone,  great  tree,  from  albero ) 
cappellonej  from  eapellOy  hat ;  portone,  from  porta,  door ;  salone, 
from  sala,  saloon. 

For  ten  years  he  carried  on  his  ascetic  excesses,  but  then  he 
withdrew  into  a  life  of  solitary  mystic  contemplation  of  God's 
infinite  love,  and  had  no  higher  desire  than  to  suffer  for  Him 
who  had  died  for  his  sins.  He  was  frequently  seen  sighing, 
sometimes  weeping,  sometimes  embracing  a  tree  and  exclaiming, 
^'  O  sweet  Jesus  1   O  gracious  Jesus  !    O  beloved  Jesus !  ^'     Once 


THE  STABAT   MATER  DOLOROSA.  197 

when  weeping  loudly,  on  being  asked  the  cause,  he  answered : 
"Because  Love  is  not  loved.'^  A  sentiment  worthy  of  the 
author  of  the  Mater  Dolorosa. 

In  his  poems  he  fearlessly  exposed  the  vices  of  all  classes  of 
society,  and  censured  the  grasping,  avaricious  Pope  Boniface 
VIII.,  who  punished  him  by  excommunication  and  hard  im- 
prisonment. When  Boniface  once  passing  by  his  prison  asked 
him  when  he  expected  to  get  out,  Jacopone  foretold  his  future 
fate  by  the  prompt  reply,  "  When  you  will  get  in.'' 

After  the  imprisonment  and  death  of  this  pope,  in  1303, 
Jacopone  was  set  free,  and  closed  his  earthly  pilgrimage  at  an 
advanced  age,  December  25th,  1306,  and  was  buried  at  Todi. 
"He  died,''  says  Lucas  Wadding,  the  historian  of  the  Francis- 
can order,  "like  a  swan,  having  composed  several  hymns  just 
before  his  death."  The  inscription  on  his  grave  tells  the  story 
of  his  life :  "  Ossa  B.  Jacoponi  de  Benedictis,  Tudertini^  Fratris 
Ordinis  llinorum,  qui  stultus  jDropter  Christum  nova  mundum 
arte  delusit  et  coelum  rapuit.  Obdormivit  in  Domino  die  xxv, 
Martii,  anno  Domini  MCCXCVI.'^  This  date  is  a  gross  error, 
since  he  survived  Boniface  YIIL,  who  died  1303.  Wadding 
corrects  the  date  by  omitting  X  and  substituting  December  25th, 
130G.^ 

The  Poesie  or  Cantaci  spirituali  of  Jacopone  are  full  of  mys- 
tic fervor  and  mark  the  dawn  of  the  Italian  language  and  litera- 
ture at  a  time  when  the  immortal  author  of  the  Divina  Commedia 
was  still  a  youth,  and  Petrarca  was  just  born.  They  were  first 
printed  at  Florence  in  1490,  nearly  two  hundred  years  after  the 
death  of  the  author,  under  the  title  Laude  difrate  Jacopone  da 
Todi,  and  repeatedly  since. 

In  the  second  edition  of  these  poems,  which  appeared  at 
Brescia,  1495,  there  is  an  appendix  of  several  Latin  poems, 
among  wdiich  is  one  De  Contemptu  Mundi,  and  also  the  famous 
Stahat  Mater  Dolorosa."^     On  this  ground,  as  well  as  on  account 

^  The  fullest  account  of  his  life  is  found  in  Lucas  "Wadding's  learned  An- 
nales  Jlinorum  sen  trium  Onlinum  a  S.  Francisco  instituiorum,  Rome,  2d.  ed. 
1731  sqq.  ("21  vols,  in  all),  vol.  IV.,  p.  407  sqq.  ;  vol.  v.,  p.  606  sqq.,  and  vol. 
VI.,  p.  76  s<iq.  (A  copy  of  this  work  is  in  the  Astor  Library,  New  York). 
And  in  Ch.  IV.  and  V.  of  Ozanam's  Foeles  Franciscains  (p.  131-217). 

*  The  same  edition,  according  to  Brunet,  contains  also  the  3Iater  Speciosa. 


198  THE  STABAT  MATER  DOLOROSA. 

of  the  general  agreement  of  the  hymn  with  what  we  know  of 
Jacopone  and  with  the  spirit  of  the  early  Franciscan  poetry, 
Lucas  Wadding  vindicated  the  Stabat  Mater  as  Jacopone's,  who 
has  ever  since  been  commonly  regarded  as  the  author.^ 

In  the  absence  of  authentic  or  cotemporary  evidence,  this 
opinion  is  no  more  than  a  probable  conjecture;  but  it  is  prefer- 
able to  other  conjectures.  The  Mater  Dolorosa  has  also  been 
ascribed,  without  proof,  to  St.  Bernard  of  Clairvaux  (died  1151), 
in  whose  works  it  lias  found  a  place.  Pope  Benedict  XIY.,^ 
Mone,  and  Phil.  Wackernagei  ^  ascribe  it  to  the  great  Pope  Inno- 
cent III.  (who  died  1216),  at  least  in  its  original  form  (six 
stanzas),  and  to  Jacopone  in  its  revised  and  enlarged  form 
(stanzas  2,  6,  7,  8).  But  neither  Mone  nor  Wackernagei  fur- 
nishes the  least  evidence  for  the  conjecture.  George  Stella,  of 
Genoa,  ascribes  it  to  Pope  John  XXII.,  the  second  of  the  Popes 
of  Avignon  (1316-1334),  and  gives  an  enlarged  text  of  13 
stanzas.^ 

Whoever  was  the  author,  he  wrote,  like  Thomas  a  Celano  and 
Thomas  a  Kempis,  not  for  fame,  but  for  the  glory  of  Christ  and 
the  good  of  mankind.  The  two  greatest  hymns  of  the  Middle 
Ages,  and  the  best  book  of  devotion  are  unselfishly  anonymous. 

ENGLISH  TRANSLATIONS. 

Like  the  Dies  Ir^,  only  in  a  less  degree,  the  Stabat 
Mater  has  again  and  again  tried  the  skill  of  translators  with 
the  same  result  of  disappointment.  The  sentiment  can  be  repro- 
duced, but  the  music  of  the  Latin  rhythm  and  double  rhyme  is 
inimitable. 

^  See  Wadding's  Scriptorcs  Ord.  3Iinorum,  etc.,  Romse  1650,  fols.  180,  181, 
quoted  by  Dauiel,  Thes.  HymnoL,  ii.,  p.  141.  This  work  of  ^Vadding  I  could 
not  find  in  New  York.  In  his  voluminous  Annals  of  the  Franciscan  Order, 
which  I  have  examined,  Wadding  says  nothing  of  the  Stabat  3Iater,  but  as- 
cribes to  Jacopone  the  poem  Z)e  Contemptu  3fundi,  commencing,  ^'  Cur  mun- 
(his  miJitat  sub  vana  gJoria.''^  (Vol.  Vi.,  p.  79  sq.)  This  poem  is  translated  by 
Dr.  Coles  in  his  Old  Gems  in  New  Settings  (New  York,  1868),  p.  72  sqq.  : 
"Why  toileth  the  world  in  the  service  of  glory." 

^  "7)e  Festis  Jesii  Christi,^^  ii.,  c.  4,  §  5,  as  quoted  by  Moup  in  his  collectian 
of  Latin  Hymns  vol.  Ii.,  p.  149. 

^  Das  Deutsche  Kirehenlied,  etc.,  1864,  sqq.,  vol.  I.,  pp.  136  and  161. 

*  Daniel  ii.,  131  sq.     See  above  p.  189. 


THE   STABAT  MATER  DOLOROSA. 


199 


The  English  and  German  translations  are  the  most  numerous 
and  successful.  Lisco,  in  a  special  monograph,  gives  fifty-three 
German  and  several  Dutch  versions.  The  English  versions  are 
less  numerous  and  mostly  of  recent  date.  As  in  the  case  of 
the  Dies  Ir^,  the  Americans  have  equaled  their  English 
brethren  in  zeal,  and  the  best  American  translators  (A.  Coles, 
E.  C.  Benedict,  John  A.  Dix,  Franklin  Johnson,  and  W.  S. 
McKenzie)  are  Protestants.  I  select  the  principal  versions 
(with  permission  of  the  authors,  as  far  as  I  could  obtain  it). 


Rev.  Edwakd  Caswall,  m.  a.  (Rom,  Cath.),  1849. 

From  "  Lip-a  Catholica,  containing  all  the  Breviary  and  dlissal Rymns,'^  etc., 
London,  1849,  p.  138  (Am.  ecL,  N.  York,  1851,  p.  181.)  Caswall,  following 
the  Breviaries,  divides  the  hymn  into  three  jiarts  for  Vespers,  Matins  and 
Lauds. 


(Vespers.) 

1 .  At  the  Cross  her  station  keeping, 
Stood  the  mournful  Mother  weeping, 

Close  to  Jesus  to  the  last : 
Through  her  heart,  His  sorrow  sharing, 
All  His  bitter  anguish  bearing, 

Now  at  length  the  sword  had  pass'd. 

2.  Oh,  how  sad  and  sore  distress'd 
Was  that  Mother  highly, blest 

Of  the  sole-begotten  One  ! 
Christ  above  in  torment  hangs ; 
She  beneath  beholds  the  pangs 

Of  her  dying  glorious  Son. 


0  thou  Mother !  fount  of  love  ! 
Touch  my  spirit  from  above, 

Make  my  heart  with  thine  accord 
Make  me  feel  as  thou  hast  felt; 
Make  my  soul  to  glow  and  melt 

With  the  love  of  Christ  my  Lord. 

(Matins.) 

.  Holy  Mother  !  pierce  me  through ; 

In  my  heart  each  wound  renew 

Of  my  Saviour  crucified : 
Let  me  share  with  thee  His  pain, 
Who  for  all  my  sins  was  slain, 
Who  for  me  in  torments  died. 


Is  there  one  who  would  not  weep, 
Whelm'd  in  miseries  so  deep 

Christ's  dear  Mother  to  behold  ? 
Can  the  human  heart  refrain 
From  partaking  in  her  pain, 

In  that  Mother's  pain  untold  ? 


4.  Bruis'd,  derided,  curs'd,  defil'd, 
She  beheld  her  tender  Child 

All  with  bloody  scourges  rent 
For  the  sins  of  His  own  nation, 
Saw  Him  hang  in  desolation. 

Till  His  spirit  forth  He  sent. 


7.  Let  me  mingle  tears  with  thee, 
Mourning  Ilim  who  mourn'd  for  me. 

All  the  days  that  I  may  live : 
By  the  Cross  with  thee  to  stay ; 
There  with  thee  to  weep  and  pray ; 

Is  all  I  ask  of  thee  to  give. 

(Lauds.) 

8.  Virgin  of  all  virgins  best ! 
Listen  to  my  fond  request: 

Let  me  share  thy  grief  divine; 
Let  me,  to  my  latest  breath, 
In  my  body  bear  the  death 

Of  that  dying  Son  of  thine. 


200 


THE   STABAT  MATER  DOLOROSA. 


Wounded  with  His  every  wound, 
Steep  my  soul  till  it  liath  swoon'd 

In  His  very  blood  away; 
Be  to  me,  0  Virgin,  nigh, 
Lest  in  flames  I  burn  and  die, 

In  His  awful  Judgment  day. 


10.  Christ,  when  Thou  shalt  call  me  hence. 
Be  Thy  Mother  my  defence, 

Be  Thy  Cross  my  victory ; 
"While  my  body  here  decays, 
May  my  soul  Thy  goodness  praise. 

Safe  in  Paradise  with  Thee. 


Rev.  J.  S.  B.  Monsell  (1811-1875). 
In  the  following  version,  by  a  slight  change,  Christ  is  addressed  instead  of 
Mary  : — 


1.  Stood  the  mournful  Mother  weeping, 
By  the  cross  her  vigil  keeping. 

While  her  Jesus  hung  thereon  : 
Through  her  heart,  in  sorrow  moaning, 
With  Him  grieving,  for  Him  groaning, 
Through  that  heart  the  sword  hath 
gone. 


Holy  Father  !  let  affliction 
For  Thy  dear  Son's  crucifixion 

Pierce  my  heart;  and  grant  this 
prayer, — 
That  while  He  for  me  was  wounded, 
With  indignities  surrounded, 

I  His  cup  of  grief  may  share. 


2.  Oh,  how  sad  and  sore  distressed 
Was  she,  the  forever  blessed. 

Mother  of  the  undefiled  ! 
She  who  wept,  and  mourned,  and  trem- 
bled. 
When  she  saw  such  pains  assembled 
Bound  about  the  Holy  Child. 


7.  Make  me  truly  weep  and  never 
From  the  Crucified  me  sever. 

Long  as  I  on  earth  shall  live : 
By  the  cross  of  Jesus  weeping. 
Vigil  with  His  mother  keeping, 

To  my  prayer  this  answer  give. 


3.  Who  that  sees  Christ's  Mother  bendinf 
'Neath  His  load  of  sorrow,  rending 

Her  sad  soul  in  woe  so  deep ; 
Who  that  sees  that  pious  Mother 
With  Him  weeping,  could  do  other 

Than,  himself  afflicted,  weep  ? 


God  of  saints  !  thou  King  most  holy ! 
Comforter  of  spirits  only  ! 

Fill  me  with  my  Saviour's  grief; 
That,  His  death  devoutly  bearing, 
And  His  bitter  passion  sharing, 

I  may  bring  Him  some  relief. 


For  the  sins  of  each  offender, 
Sinless  soul,  and  body  tender, 

Sees  she  'neath  the  cruel  rod  : 
Sees  her  own  sweet  Son,  her  only, 
Dying,  desolate,  and  lonely. 

Pouring-  out  His  soul  to  God. 


9.  Make  me  with  His  stripes  be  stricken, 
With  the  cross  my  spirit  quicken, 

For  the  love  of  Christ  I  pray  : 
That  with  love  inflamed,  attended, 
I  by  love  may  be  defended 

In  the  awful  Judgment  Day. 


5.  Jesu  !  fount  of  love!  Thee  loving. 
And  my  soul  Thy  sorrow  moving. 

Make  me  watch  and  keep  with  Thee  : 
As  my  God  and  Christ  Thee  knowing, 
Let  my  loving  heart  be  glowing 

With  a  holy  sympathy. 


10.  By  the  cross  forever  guarded, 

And,    through    Christ's    dear   dying, 
warded 
By  the  grace  that  never  dies; 
When  my  mortal  body,  dying. 
In  the  quiet  grave  is  lying. 
Take  my  soul  to  paradise. 
To  adore 
Thee,  my  God,  forevermore  ! 


THE  STABAT  MATER  DOLOROSA. 


201 


Abeaham  Coles,  m.d.,  Scotch  Plains,  New  Jei-sev,  1867, 

6 


1.  Stood  th'  afflicted  mother  weeping, 
Near  the  cross  her  station  keeping, 

Whereon  hung  her  Son  and  Lord  ; 
Through  whose  spirit  sympathizing, 
Sorrowing  and  agonizing. 

Also  passed  the  cruel  sword. 

2.  Oh  !  how  mournful  and  distressed 
"Was  that  favored  and  most  blessed 

Mother  of  the  Only  Son  ! 
Trembling,  grieving,  bosom-heaving, 
"While  perceiving,  scarce  believing,^ 

Pains  of  that  Illustrious  One, 

3.  "Who  the  man,  who,  called  a  brother, 
"Would  not  weeji,  saw  he  Christ's  Mother 

In  such  deep  distress  and  wild  ? 
"Who  could  not  sad  tribute  render 
"Witnessing  that  Mother  tender 

Agonizing  with  her  child? 

4.  For  His  people's  sins  atoning, 
Him  she  saw  in  torments  groaning, 

Given  to  the  scourger's  rod ; 
Saw  her  darling  offspring,  dying 
Desolate,  forsaken,  crying. 

Yield  His  spirit  up  to  God. 

5.  Make  me  feel  thy  sorrow's  power, 
That  with  thee  I  tears  may  shower, 

Tender  Mother,  fount  of  love  ! 
Make  my  heart  with  love  unceasing 
Burn   towards   Christ  the  Lord,  that 
pleasing 

I  may  be  to  Him  above. 


Holy  Mother,  this  be  granto<l, 

That  the  slain  one's  W(nin(ls  be  planted 

Firmly  in  my  heart  to  bide. 
Of  Him  wounded,  all  astounded — 
De])ths  unbounded  for  me  sounded,^ 

All  the  pangs  with  me  divide. 

7.  Make  me  weep  with  thee  in  union ; 
With  the  Crucified,  communion 

In  His  grief  and  suffering  give; 
Near  the  cross  with  tears  unfailing 
I  would  join  thee  in  thy  wailing 

Here  as  long  as  I  shall  live. 

8.  Maid  of  maidens,  all  excelling  ! 
Be  not  bitter,  me  repelling. 

Make  thou  me  a  mourner  too; 
Make  me  bear  about  Christ's  dying. 
Share  His  passion,  shame  defying, 

All  His  wounds  in  me  renew. 

9.  "Wound  for  wound  be  there  created; 
"With  the  cross  intoxicated 

For  thy  Son's  dear  sake,  I  pray — 
May  I,  fired  with  pure  affection. 
Virgin,  have  through  thee  j^rotection 

In  the  solemn  judgment  day. 

10.   Let  me  by  the  cross  be  warded. 
By  the  death  of  Christ  be  guarded. 

Nourished  by  divine  supplies. 
"When  the  body  death  hath  riven. 
Grant  that  to  the  soul  be  given 
Glories  bright  of  paradise. 


The  esteemed  and  venerable  author  sent  me  (Sept.  17,  1889)  the  following 
new  version  of  the  first  three  stanzas  as  an  alternative  for  the  corresponding 
stanzas  of  his  first  version  ;  the  last  seven  remaining  the  same  : — 


^  This  is  a  happy  reproduction  of  the  musical  quadruplication  of  the  double 
rhymes  in  the  original  : — 

"  Quie  mcerehat  et  dolehat 
Et  tremebat,  cum  videhat,''^ 

2  "  Tui  nati  vulnerati 

Tarn  dignati  i)ro  me  pati.''^ 


202 


THE   STABAT  MATER  DOLOROSA. 


Stood  the  Mother,  0  how  tearful, 
Near  the  Cross,  the  gibbet  fearful, 

Whereon  hung  her  Son  and  Lord  ;- 
Through  whose  spirit,  sympathizing. 
Sorrowing  and  agonizing. 

Also  passed  the  cruel  sword. 


2.  0  how  mournful !  how  distressed  ! 
How  distraught  that  Mother  blessed 

Of  the  sole-begotten  One  ! 
By  that  sight  of  horror  shaken, 
What  dire  griefs  did  they  awaken — 

Woes  of  that  Illustrious  One  I 


3.  Who  could  his  emotions  smother, 
If  he  saw  Christ's  dearest  Mother 

In  such  deep  distress  and  wild  ? 
Who  could  tears  refuse  to  render, 
Witnessing  that  Mother  tender, 

Agonizing  with  her  Child  ? 


Another  Version  of  Dr.  Abraham  Coles. 
This  new  version,  in  single  rhyme,  was  prepared  on  September  17,  1889, 
and  is  here  published  for  the  first  time  by  kind  permission  of  the  author  : — 

1.  Bathed  in  tears  the  Mother  stood. 
Close  beside  the  fatal  wood, 

Where  her  Son  extended  hung  : 


Through  whose  soul  the  sword  then 

passed, 
Wakening  groans  that  followed  fast, 
Pangs  foreseen,  by  Simeon  sung. 

2.  0  what  anguish  tore  her  breast, — 
Mother,  singularly  blest. 

Of  the  God-begotten  One  ! 
How  rang  out  her  piteous  wail, 
As  they  drove  each  cruel  nail 

In  the  flesh  of  her  great  Son  ! 

3.  Who  loud  weeping  could  forbear. 
If  he  saw  Christ's  Mother  there 

In  such  boundless  grief  and  pain  ? 
Who  could  a  spectator  be. 
And  not  share  her  agony 

Witness  of  her  Offspring  slain  ? 

4.  For  transgressors  of  the  law, 
She  in  torments  Jesus  saw — 

Saw  Him  writhe  beneath  the  rod; — 
Saw  her  dear  Son,  desolate, 
Dying,  victim  of  man's  hate. 

Breathe  His  spirit  out  to  God. 

5.  Tender  Mother,  love's  sweet  Source ! 
Let  me  feel  thy  sorrow's  force. 

So  that  I  may  mourn  with  thee  ! 
May  my  heart  with  worship  glow 
Loving  Christ  as  God,  that  so 

I  to  Him  may  pleasing  be ! 


6.  Holy  Mother,  this  impart — 
Strongly  fix  there  in  my  heart 

AVound-prints  of  the  Crucified  I — 
Pains  thy  own  Son  wounded  bore. 
Aching  heart  and  sufferings  sore. 

Faithfully  with  me  divide  ! 

7.  Let  me  share  thy  grief  of  soul. 
With  the  Crucified  condole, 

All  the  while  I  live  below ! 
Near  the  Cross,  thee  close  beside, 
I  would  gladly  stand  and  bide 

In  companionship  of  woe. 

8.  Virgin  of  all  virgins  first, 
Lest  I  be  for  fault  amerced. 

Be  not  bitter,  be  thou  kind  I 
Let  me  marks  of  Christ's  death  bear, 
Wound-prints  of  His  passion  wear, 

Stamped  uj^on  my  heart  and  mind  I 

9.  Wounded  with  His  wounds  let  me 
With  the  Cross  enamoured  be. 

On  account  of  love  so  vast; 
Fired  and  kindled  I  depend 
On  thee.  Virgin,  to  defend 

In  the  Judgment  at  the  last. 

10.  By  the  Cross  me  make  secure. 

By  Christ's  death  make  my  life  sure. 

Nourish  me  with  needed  grace  ! 
When  on  earth  I  cease  to  live, 
To  my  soul  immortal  give 
There  in  Paradise  a  place  I 


THE    STABAT  MATER   DOLOROSA. 


203 


Eeastus  C.  Benedict,  of  New  York,  1867. 

First  published  in  tlie  "  Christian  Intelligencer,"  N.  York  (the  organ  of  the 
Reformed  Dutch  Church),  then  somewhat  changed  in  his  "  T7/e  Hymn  of 
Hildehcrt  and  other  Medixval  Hymns  with  Tt'anslaiions^^ ^  ^evr  Yorli  (Anson 
D.  F.  Randolph),  18G7,  pp.  65-69. 


1.  Weeping  stood  His  mother,  sighing 
By  the  cross  where  Jesus,  dying, 

Hung  aloft  on  Calvary  ; 
Through  her  soul,  in  sorrow  moaning. 
Bowed  in  grief,  in  spirit  groaning, 

Pierced  the  sword  in  misery. 

2.  Filled  with  grief  beyond  all  others, 
Mother — blessed  among  mothers — 

Of  the  God-begotten  one  ! 
How  she  sorroweth  and  grieveth, 
Trembling  as  she  thus  perceiveth 

Dying  her  unspotted  one  ! 

3.  Who  could  there  refrain  from  weeping, 
Seeing  Christ's  dear  mother  keej^ing 

In  her  grief,  so  bitterly  ? 
Who  could  fail  to  share  her  anguish, 
Seeing  thus  the  mother  languish, 

Lost  in  woe  so  utterly  ? 


6.  All  His  stripes,  oh  !  let  me  feel  them, 
On  my  heart  for  ever  seal  them, 

Printed  there  enduringly. 
All  His  woes,  beyond  comparing. 
For  my  sake  in  anguish  bearing. 

Let  me  share  them  willingly. 

7.  By  thy  side  let  me  be  weeping. 
True  condolence  with  Him  keeping, 

Weeping  all  my  life  with  thee ; 
Near  the  cross  with  thee  abiding, 
Freely  all  thy  woes  dividing. 

In  thy  sorrow  joined  with  thee. 

8.  Virgin,  of  all  virgins  fairest, 
Let  me  feel  the  love  thou  bearest, 

Sharing  all  thy  suflfering ; 
Let  me  feel  the  death  they  gave  Him, 
Crucified  in  shame  to  save  them, 

Dying  without  murmuring. 


4.  For  the  trespass  of  his  nation 
She  beheld  his  laceration. 

By  their  scourges  suffering. 
She  beheld  her  dearest  taken, 
Crucified,  and  God  forsaken. 

Dying  by  their  torturing. 


Let  me  feel  their  blows  so  crushing. 
Let  me  drink  the  current  gushing 

From  His  wounds  when  crucified. 
By  a  heavenly  zeal  excited, 
When  the  judgment  fires  are  lighted, 

Then  may  I  be  justified. 


Mother,  fountain  of  affection. 
Let  me  share  thy  deep  dejection. 

Let  me  share  thy  tenderness ; 
Let  my  heart,  thy  sorrow  feeling, 
Love  of  Christ,  the  Lord,  revealing, 

Be  like  thine  in  holiness  ! 


10.  On  the  Cross  of  Christ  relying, 

Through   His  death  redeemed   from 
dying. 
By  His  favor  fortified  ; 
When  my  mortal  frame  is  perished. 
Let  my  spirit  then  be  cherished. 
And  in  heaven  be  glorified. 


Genekal  John  Adams  Dix,  1868. 

General  Dix  prepared  this  version,  as  he  says,  "  more  leisurely  "  than  his 
earlier  version  of  the  Dies  Ir.e,  while  he  was  American  Minister  Plenipo- 
tentiary^ in  Paris,  sitting  in  a  gilded  saloon  under  the  shadow  of  the  Trium- 
phal Arch, — in  striking  contrast  to  the  lonely  cell  of  an  ascetic  Franciscan 
friar  in  which  the  original  was  born.  He  printed  it  privately  at  Cambridge, 
Mass.,  1868.     It  is  reprinted  in  The  3femoirs  of  John  Adams  Dix,  compiled  by 


204 


THE  STABAT  MATER  DOLOEOSA. 


his  son,  3Iorgan  Dix,  N.  York  (Harper  &  Brothers),  1883,  Vol.  II.,  240  sq. 
Comp.  his  remarks  on  p.  233.  This  version  is  superior  to  either  of  his  two 
versions  of  the  Dies  Iras : — 


1.  Near  the  Cross  the  Saviour  bearing 
Stood  the  Mother  lone,  despairing, 

Bitter  tears  down  falling  fast. 
"Wearied  was  her  heart  with  grieving, 
"Worn  her  breast  with  sorrow  heaving  : 

Through   her   soul   the   sword   had 
passed. 

2.  Ah !  how  sad  and  broken-hearted 
Was  that  blessed  Mother,  parted 

From  the  God-begotten  One  ! 
How  her  loving  heart  did  languish 
"When  she  saw  the  mortal  anguish 

"Which  o'erwhelmed  her  peerless  Son ! 

3.  "Who  could  witness  without  weeping 
Such  a  flood  of  sorrow  sweeping 

O'er  the  stricken  Mother's  breast  ? 
"Who  contemplate  without  being 
Moved  to  kindred  grief  by  seeing 

Son  and  Mother  thus  oppressed? 

4.  For  our  sins  she  saw  II im  bending 
And  the  cruel  lash  descending 

On  His  body  stripped  and  bare; 
Saw  her  own  dear  Jesus  dying, 
Heard  His  spirit's  last  outcrying 

Sharp  with  anguish  and  despair. 

5.  Gentle  Mother,  love's  pure  fountain ! 
Cast,  0  cast  on  me  the  mountain 

Of  thy  grief  that  I  may  weep ; 
Let  my  heart  with  ardor  burning, 
Christ's  unbounded  love  returning. 

His  rich  favor  win  and  keep. 


6.  Holy  Mother,  be  thy  study 
Christ's  dear  image  scarred  and  bloody 

To  enshrine  within  my  heart ! 
Martyred  Son  !  whose  grace  has  set  me 
Free  from  endless  death,  0  let  me 

Of  Thy  sufferings  bear  a  part. 

7.  Mother,  let  our  tears  commingle, 
Be  the  crucifix  my  single 

Sign  of  sorrow  while  I  live  : 
Let  me  by  the  Cross  stand  near  thee, 
There  to  see  thee,  there  to  hear  thee — 

For  each  sigh  a  sigh  to  give. 

8.  Purest  of  the  "Virgins  !  turn  not 
Thy  displeasure  on  me — spurn  not 

My  desire  to  weep  with  thee. 
Let  me  live  Christ's  passion  sharing. 
All  His  wounds  and  sorrows  bearing 

In  my  tearful  memory. 

9.  Be,  ye  wounds,  my  tribulation  ! 
Be,  thou  Cross,  my  inspiration  ! 

Mark,    0   blood,  my   Heavenward 
way. 
Thus  to  fervor  rapt,  0  tender 
"N'irgin,  be  thou  my  defender 

In  the  dreadful  Judgment  day. 

10.  With  the  Cross  my  faith  I'll  cherish; 
By  Christ's  death  sustained  I'll  perish. 

Through  His  grace  again  to  rise. 
Come  then.  Death,  this  body  sealing, 
To  my  ransomed  soul  revealing 
Glorious  days  in  Paradise, 


Rev.  Dr.  Franklix  Johnsox,  of  Cambridge,  Mass.,  1885. 
Dr.  Jolinson  gives  also  a  second  version  "adapted  to  the  devoti(mal  use  of 
Protestants,"  in  which  he  changes  the  address  from  Mary  to  Jtsus,  ver.  G-10. 


Stood  the  mournful  mother  weeping, 
Xear  the  cross  her  vigil  keeping, 

Where  He  hung,  her  Son  adored. 
Througli  her  soul,  of  hope  forsaken, 
And  of  mighty  sorrows  shaken. 

Pierced  the  sharp  relentless  sword. 


2.  Of  all  women  has  none  other 
Suffered  like  the  blessed  mother 

Of  God's  sole  begotten  Son, 
Who  with  fervent  love  unfailing 
And  with  anguish  unavailing 

Gazed  u})on  that  dying  One. 


THE  STABAT   MATER  DOLOROSA. 


205 


3.  Who  is  har(\  yet  being  liumnn, 
That  bereaved  and  •weej)ing  wr.man 

To  behold  with  tearless  eyes  ? 
Who,  his  bosom  sternly  steeling, 
Would  not  feel  with  all  her  feeling 

Of  her  Son's  keen  agonies  ? 

4.  Long  she  saw  that  loved  One  languish 
For  Ilis  peojile's  sins  in  anguish, 

Saw  His  meekness  'neath  the  rod, 
Saw  her  Son,  of  all  deserted — 
Earth  and  Heaven  from  Him  averted — 

Yield  His  spirit  up  to  God. 

5.  Mother,  fount  of  love's  devotion, 
I,  beholding  thine  emotion, 

Would  thy  burden  with  thee  bear ; 
Let  me  thine  affection  borrow 
^  For  thy  Son  in  all  His  sorrow, 

That  thy  mourning  I  may  share. 

e>.  Holy  Mother,  with  affliction 
Of  His  saving  crucifixion 

Fill  and  thrill  mine  inmost  heart  ; 
With  thy  Son,  His  wounds  receiving 
That  have  caused  thy  soul  its  grieving. 
May  I  ever  have  a  part. 


7.  I  would  weep  with  all  thy  weeping, 
Vigil  with  thy  vigil  keeping, 

Till  my  mortiil  life  shall  fail ; 
Near  the  cross  and  near  beside  thee, 
Where  these  agonies  betide  thee, 

I  would  stand  and  with  thee  wail. 

S.  Virgin,  virgins  all  excelling,^ 
For  thy  love  and  grief  a  dwelling 

Pure  and  holy  make  in  me  ; 
Let  me  bear  Christ's  crucifying; 
Let  me  know  the  pains  of  dying 

That  He  suflfered  on  the  tree. 

9.  Let  my  heart  with  His  be  riven ;  - 
Let  His  cup  to  me  be  given ; 

Let  me  of  its  depths  partake ; 
And,  still  flaming  thus  with  fervor, 
Let  me  find  thee  my  preserver 

When  the  Judgment  day  shall  break. 

10.  Through  the  cross  thy  blessing  send 
me ;  3 
Let  Christ's  death  from  sin  defend  me ; 

Care  for  me  in  tender  love ; 
When  this  mortal  flesh  shall  perish. 
Let  thy  Son  my  spirit  cherish 
In  His  Paradise  above.* 


Hox.  JoHX  L.  Hayes  (Cambridge,  Mass.). 
From  '-The  ludependeut,"'  Xew  York,  Dec.  30,  1S86. 


1.  Stood  the  grief-struck  Mother  weeping. 
At  the  Cross  her  vigil  keeping. 

Where  her  suffering  Son  was  bound ; 
And  her  heart  with  anguish  groaning 
And  His  agony  bemoaning, 

Bleeds  with  every  bleeding  wound. 

2.  Oh  !  What  sorrow  and  affliction, 
She  the  font  of  benediction, 

Bore  for  her  beloved  Son  ! 
With  what  grief  and  what  bewailing, 
And  what  trembling  and  heart-failing, 

Looked  she  on  the  martyred  One  I 


3.  Who  could  hold  his  tears  from  flowing 
For  Christ's  stricken  Mother,  knowing 

All  her  misery  and  jjain  ? 
Who  withhold  his  lamentation. 
In  the  mournful  contemplation 

Of  her  grieving  for  the  slain  ? 

4.  She,  for  sinners'  sure  salvation, 
Saw  her  Son  in  condemnation 

Whipped  with  scourges,  led  to  death; 
Saw  Him,  without  const>lation, 
In  despair  and  desolation 

Utter  His  expiring  breath. 


^  In  the  second,  version  :  ' '  Jesus,  all  our  thoughts  excelliuc 

-  ''  Let  my  heart  with  Thine  be  riven." 

^  '*  Through  Thy  cross  Thy  blessing  send  me, 

Let  Thy  death  from  sin  defend  me." 
■*  "Evermore  my  spirit  cherish, 

In  Thy  Paradise  above. ' ' 


206 


THE   STABAT  MATER  DOLOROSA. 


5.  Thou,  0  Mother  !  love-bestowing  ! 
Make  me,  with  thy  grief  o'erfiowing. 

Make  me  mourn  and  weep  with  thee  ! 
Fill  my  heart  with  love  all  burning. 
Unto  Christ  His  love  returning, 

That  thy  blessing  fall  on  me. 

6.  Holy  Mother  !  by  thy  favor 
May  the  wounds  of  Christ  forever 

Be  engraven  on  my  heart; 
Of  His  suffering  and  wounding 
May  I,  through  thy  grace  abounding, 

Though  unworthy,  bear  a  part. 

7.  With  thy  tears  let  mine  fall  duly ; 
At  the  cross  lamenting  truly 

May  I  weep  till  life  shall  end ; 
Near  His  cross  give  me  my  station, 
And  with  thee  association, 

That   my  griefs   with   thine   may 
blend. 


8.  Virgin,  than  all  virgins  fairer  ! 
In  thy  pain  let  me  be  sharer ; 

Let  me  always  with  thee  mourn. 
Give  me  part  in  Christ's  affliction; 
Let  His  stripes  and  crucifixion 

In  my  heart  of  hearts  be  borne. 

9.  With  His  wounds  may  I  be  sinking; 
Of  His  cup  may  I  be  drinking, 

With  His  blood  inebriate  be  ! 
Lest  by  flames  I  be  consumed, 
And  in  day  of  judgment  doomed, 

Virgin  blest,  I  call  on  thee  ! 

10.  By  the  Cross  may  I  be  guarded; 

By    Christ's     death     from     dangers 
warded. 
Through  His  grace  that  open  lies! 
When  my  dust  to  dust  is  given,       ^^ 
And  my  soul  its  bonds  hath  riven. 
Give  me  place  in  Paradise  ! 


Two  Versions  of  Rev.  W.  S.  McKenzie,  D.D.,  Boston,  Mass.,  1887, 
First  published  in  "  The  Beacon,"  Boston,  Mass.,  May  7,  1887. 
Ix  Double  Rhyme. 
1.  Stood  the  Virgin  Mother  weeping 


Near  the  cross,  sad  vigils  keeping 

O'er  her  son  there  crucified  : 
Through  her  soul  in  sorrow  moaning. 
Racked    with    grief,    with    anguish 
groaning, 
Pierced  the  sword  as  prophesied. 

2.  Ah  !  how  doleful  and  dejected 
Was  that  woman,  the  elected 

Mother  of  the  Holy  One; 
Who,  with  weeping  and  with  grieving, 
Stood  there  trembling,  while  perceiv- 
ing 

How  they  smote  her  peerless  Son. 

3.  Who  could  see  without  emotion 
Christ's  dear  mother,  all  devotion, 

Crushed  beneath  such  misery? 
^Could  one  sec  her  desolation, 
Would  he  hush  her  lamentation 

For  her  Son  in  agony  ? 


SixGLK  Rhyme. 
The  Virgin  Mother  sighed  and  Avept, 
As  near  the  cross  she  steadfast  kept. 

Where  her  Son  in  torture  hung  : 
Her     stricken    heart    with    anguish 

groaned. 
With  grief  o'erwhelmed  she  cried  and 
moaned, 
For  the  sword  her  bosom  wrung. 

How    sad   was    she,    and    sore    dis- 
tressed ! — 
That  Woman  once  supremely  blessed, 

Called  to  bear  the  Holy  One ! 
What  tears  were   hers !    what  bitter 

woes ! 
Ah  !  how  she  quivered  as  the  blows 
Fell  upon  her  peerless  Son. 

And  who  would  not  with  her  have 

grieved. 
Had  he  Christ's  Mother  there   per- 
ceived. 
Crushed  beneath  such  misery  ? 
What   mortal  would  from    tears    re- 
frain. 
Could  he  but  hear  her  cries  of  pain 
O'er  her  Son's  sharp  agony? 


THE  STABAT  MATER  DOLOEOSA. 


207 


For  His  wicked  nation  pleading, 
She  saw  Jes^us  scourged,  and  bleeding 

'Neath  the  smitings  of  the  rod; 
Saw  her  Son's  meek  resignation. 
As  He  died  in  desolation, 

Yielding  up  His  soul  to  God, 


For  His  own  nation's  sinfulness 
She  saw  her  Jesus  in  distress 

'Neath  the  smitings  of  the  rod; 
Saw  on  the  cross  her  own  sweet  Son, 
Deserted,  dying,  and  undone, 

Breathing  forth  His  plaints  to  God. 


5.  Mother,  fount  of  love's  deep  yearnin< 
I,  thy  weight  of  woe  discerning, 
Partner  in  thy  tears  would  be ; 
May  my  heart  with  ardor  glowing. 
And  with  love  to  Christ  outflowing, 
S3-mpathize  with  Him  and  thee. 


Mother,  fount  whence  love  doth  flow, 
I  would  that  I  thy  pangs  might  know, 

Sharing  them  in  sympathy. 
Inspire  my  soul  with  love  like  thine. 
That  I  may  cleave  to  Christ  Divine 

With  thy  fervent  loyalty. 


Make  me  know  thy  sore  affliction, 
Print  the  wounds  of  crucifixion 

Deepl}'  on  my  inmost  heart. 
With  thy  Son,  the  wounded,  bleeding, 
For  me  stooping,  interceding, 

Let  me  feel  the  scourge  and  smart. 


0  sacred  Mother,  heed  my  plea, 
Lay  thou  the  cross  of  Christ  on  me, 

Grave  it  on  my  inmost  heart; 
With  Him  on  whom  my  sins  were  laid. 
Who  stooped  to  me,  my  ransom  paid, 

I  would  bear  an  equal  part. 


7.  Let  me  join  thy  lamentation. 
Share  thy  sweet  commiseration, 

And  through  life  a  mourner  be  : 
Near  the  cross,  with  thee  abiding, 
I  would  stand,  with  thee  dividing 

All  the  woes  afflicting  thee. 


7.  Such  tears  as  thine  make  me  to  weep; 
With  thee  thy  vigils  let  me  keep, 

Till  my  life  on  earth  is  past : 
I  near  the  cross  with  thee  would  stand, 
With  heart  to  lieart  and  hand  to  hand, 

Fellow-mourner  to  the  last. 


S.  Virgin,  virgins  all  excelling, 

Make   my   heart,    like  thine,    love' 
dwelling, 
Let  thy  tortures  rend  my  soul ; 
Let  me  share  Christ's  crucifying, 
Let  me  feel  His  pangs  of  dying. 
Let  His  sorrows  o'er  me  roll. 


S.  Thou  purest  Virgin  !  matchless  Maid! 
Do  not  repel  my  proffered  aid ; 

Let  thy  sorrows  o'er  me  roll : 
Christ's  dying  I  would  daily  bear; 
His  crucifixion  I  would  dare; 

Let  its  tortures  rend  my  soul. 


9.  May  I  suffer  all  His  bruising; 
Quaff  the  crimson  liquid  oozing 

From  the  wounds  of  that  dear  Son. 
Rapt  with  fervor  and  affection. 
Grant  me.  Virgin,  thy  protection, 
When  the  Judorment  is  bej^un. 


9.  Ay,  wound  me  with  the  wounds  He 
bore  ! 
And  let  me  quaff  the  sacred  gore 

Gushing  from  thy  mangled  Son  ! 
My  soul  aglow  with  love's  pure  flame, 
0  Virgin,  shield  me  with  thy  name 
When  the  judgment  is  begun. 


10.  Let  me  by  the  cross  be  guarded; 

By     Christ's     death     from     dangers 
warded; 
By  His  grace  through  life  supplied. 
Death  the  ties  of  earth  may  sever ; 
I  shall  live  in  Christ  forever, 
One  of  Eden's  glorified. 


10.  May  the  cross  my  guardian  be; 

May  Christ's  atonement  guerdon  me. 

May  He  keep  me  in  His  love. 
AVhen   death    shall    end    my    earthly- 
strife. 
May  I  attain  to  endless  life 
In  the  Paradise  above. 


208 


THE  STABAT  MATER  DOLOROSA. 


Anonymous. 


1.  There  she  stood,  the  Mother  weeping  ! 
Nigh  the  Cross  sad  watches  keeping, 

While  her  Son  did  hang  and  bleed ! 
Bitter  were  her  tears  and  grieving  : 
Through  that  bosom,  wildly  heaving, 

There  had  passed  a  sword  indeed  ! 


Holy  mother,  by  thy  favor, 
Let    the    nails    which    pierced    my 
Saviour, 

Pierce  and  fix  my  wandering  heart ! 
In  His  sorrows,  which  abounded. 
In  His  woundings,  Who  was  wounded, 

All  for  me,  oh  give  me  part. 


There  she  stood  in  deep  affliction, 
She  who  heard  the  benediction 

*'IIail  of  Heaven,  Thou  blessed  one!'- 
And,  with  breast  o'erflowed  with  an- 
guish, 
Saw  beneath  dire  tortures  languish 

Him  who  was  the  promised  Son  ! 


7.  Be  it  mine  through  life,  sincerely 
Aye  to  weep  with  thee  !  and  nearly 

Follow  still  my  Lord  divine ! 
Near  the  Cross  be  still  my  station. 
By  thy  side  !     Each  lamentation 

Of  thy  lips  be  swelled  with  mine ! 


Who,  with  eye  no  moisture  showing, 
Could  see  Mary's  overflowing? 

Stricken  by  so  sharp  a  blow  ! 
Who  the  generous  sigh  could  smother 
As  he  watched  sweet  Jesus'  mother 

Sunk  in  sympathetic  woe? 


8.  Virgin  queen  of  heavenly  splendor, 
Let  me  share,  oh  bosom  tender ! 

Ev'n  thy  Sorrows'  secresies  ! 
Let  me  bear  my  Jesus'  dying 
In  my  flesh  !     And  to  Him  flying, 
Cherish  every  wound  of  His  ! 


4.  Well  she  knew  'twas  for  her  nation. 
For  that  sinful  generation 

That  the  shameful  stripes  He  bore  ! 
That,  beneath  men's  eyes  averted, 
Saddened,  desolate,  deserted. 

Breathed  He,  on  the  Cross,  no  more  ! 


9.  With  His  love,  oh  re-create  me! 
With  His  cross  inebriate  me  ! 

Wound  me  with  love's  wounds,  I 
pray  ! 
That  secure  in  thy  protection, 
Bound  to  Him  with  strong  affection, 
I  may  meet  the  judgment  day  ! 


5.  Mother,  full  of  tendernesses  ! 
I  would  know  of  thy  distresses  ! 

By  community  of  pain. 
Let  the  love  of  Christ  within  me 
Burn  and  flame,  until  it  win  me, 
Answering  love  from  Him  again 


10.  Be  His  Cross  my  tower  abiding. 
And  His  death  my  place  of  hiding  ! 

Feed  me  with  His  grace  and  lovo 
That,  when  worms  my  flesh  inherit, 
I  may  rise,  a  ransomed  spirit. 

To  the  Paradise  above  ! 


A  PROTESTANT  TRANSFUSION. 

From  Dr.  Heney  IVIills,  of  Auburn  (1786-1867),  ITonr.  GermanicT,  second 
ed.,  New  York,  1856,  Appendix,  p.  365,  7  stanzas,  of  wliicli  I  give  1,  4,  5,  6,  7. 

Dr.  K.  D.  Hitchcock,  in  Carmina  Sanctorum,  No.  195,  erroneously  ascribes 
Vers.  1  to  liev.  Dr.  JA^IES  Waddell  Alexander  (1804-1859).  Neither 
the  Rev.  Dr.  S.  D.  Alexander  of  N.  York  (the  brother  of  J.  W.  A.),  nor  Mr. 
A.  D.  Randolpli  (his  publisher)  could  <^ive  nie  any  information  about  a  trans- 
lation of  the  Slabat  3Iatcr  by  Dr.  J.  W.  Alexander. 


THE  STABAT  MATEE  DOLOROSA. 


209 


1.  Near  the  cross  was  Mary  weeping, 
There  her  mournful  station  keeping, 

Gazing  on  her  dying  Son  : 
There  in  speechless  anguish  groaning, 
Yearning,  trembling,  sighing,   moan- 
ing,— 
Through  her  soul  the  sword  had  gone. 


3.  But  Ave  have  no  need  to  borrow 
Motives  from  the  Mother's  sorrow, 
At  our  Saviour's  cross  to  mourn. 
'Twas    our    sins    brought    Him    from 

heaven. 
These  the  cruel  nails  had  driven : — 
AH  His  griefs  for  us  were  borne. 


What  lie  for  His  people  suffered. 
Stripes,  and  scoffs,  and  insults  offered, 

His  fond  Mother  saw  the  whole; — 
Never  from  the  scene  retiring, 
Till  He  bowed  His  head,  expiring, 

And  to  God  breathed  out  His  soul. 


"When  no  eye  its  pity  gave  us, 
"W^hen  there  was  no  arm  to  save  us. 

He  His  love  and  power  dis^jlayed : 
By  His  stri])es  He  wrought  our  healing 
By  His  death,  our  life  revealing, 

He  for  us  the  ransom  paid. 


5.  Jesus,  may  Thy  love  constrain  us. 
That  from  sin  we  may  refrain  us, 

In  Thy  griefs  may  deeply  grieve: 
Thee  our  best  affections  giving, 
To  Thy  glory  ever  living. 

May  we  in  Thy  glory  live ! 


AxoxYMors. 

From  Schaff 's  "  Christ  in  Song,''  1868. 

1.  At  the  cross  her  station  keeping. 
Stood  the  mournful  Mother  weeping. 

Where  He  hung,  her  Son  and  Lord. 
For  her  soul,  of  joy  bereaved, 
Bowed  with  anguish,  deeply  grieved, 
Felt  the  sharp  and  piercing  sword. 


3.  Who,  on  Christ's  dear  Mother  gazing, 
Pierced  by  anguish  so  amazing. 

Born  of  woman,  would  not  weep? 
Who,  on  Christ's  dear  Mother  thinking. 
Such  a  cup  of  sorrow  drinking. 

Would  not  share  her  sorrows  deep? 


2.  Oh,  how  sad  and  sore  distressed 
Now  was  she,  that  Mother  blessed 

Of  the  sole-begotten  One; 

Deep  the  woe  of  her  affliction 

When  she  saw  the  crucifixion 

Of  her  ever-glorious  Son. 


For  His  people's  sins  chastised 
She  beheld  her  Son  despised. 

Scourged,  and  crowned  with  thorns 
entwined; 
Saw  Him  then  from  judgment  taken, 
And  in  death  by  all  forsaken. 

Till  His  spirit  He  resigned. 


5.  Jesu,  may  such  deep  devotion 
Stir  in  me  the  same  emotion. 

Fount  of  love,  Redeemer  kind  ! 
That  my  heart,  fresh  ardor  gaining 
And  a  purer  love  attaining. 

May  with  Thee  acceptance  find. 


14 


Through   her   heart   with 
wruns:. 


210  THE  STAB  AT  MATER  DOLOROSA. 

Lord  Lindsay,  1847. 

The  stanzas  of  this  version  are  irregular  in  merit  and  in  form,  which  varies 
between  the  double  and  single  rhyme.  I  give  three  stanzas.  The  whole  is 
printed  in  full  in  [Xott's]  Seven  Great  Hymns  of  the  Blediseval  Church  (N. 
York,  5th  ed.,  1868,  p.  103). 

1.  By  the  Cross,  sad  vigil  keeping,  Oh  !  what  bitter  tears  she  shed 
Stood  the  mournful  mother  weeping,  Whilst  before  her  Jesus  bled 

While  on  it  the  Saviour  hung;  'I^eath  the  Father's  penal  rod  ! 

In  that  hour  of  deep  distress. 
Pierced  the  sword  of  bitterness  5,  Mary  mother,  fount  of  love, 

^"^  Make  me  share  thy  sorrow,  move 

All  my  soul  to  sympathy  ! 
Make  my  heart  within  me  glow 

2.  Oh  !  how  sad,  how  woe-begone  With  the  love  of  Jesus — so 
Was  that  ever-blessed  one.  Shall  I  find  aceeptancy. 

Mother  of  the  Son  of  God  ! 

JoHx  D.  Van  Burex. 

From  The  Stabat  3Iaier,  translated  hy  John  D.  Van  Buren,  Albany,  1872. 

1.  Stands,  in  tears,  with  bosom  heaving,  Sharpest  sword  of  pain  is  darting 

By  the  Cross  the  Mother,  grieving.  Thro'  her  soul,  in  anguish  smarting, 

While  her  Son  upon  it  hung;  By  the  sorest  torture  wrung. 

GERMAN  TRANSLATIONS. 

Dr.  Lisco,  in  his  monograph  on  the  Stabat  Mater ^  published 
in  1843,  gives  in  three  parallel  columns  the  text  of  fifty-three 
German  translations  of  the  Mater  Dolorosa,  iha  oldest  by 
Hermann  of  Salzburg  (d.  1396),  the  latest  of  the  year  1842,  besides 
some  frag:ments.  Pie  makes  out  a  chronoloo-ical  list  of  78  full 
or  partial  German,  and  4  Dutch  translations,  but  ignores  the 
English  versions.  Among  the  translators  are  Klopstock  (1771, 
very  free),  Riedel  (1773),  Hiller  (1781),  Lavater  (1785),  Lud- 
wig  Tieck  (1812,  very  free),  Baron  De  la  Motte  Fouque  (1817), 
A.  L.  Follen  (1819),  Baron  von  Wessenberg  (1825),  Thiersch 
(1825),  Simrock  (1834),  Friedrich  von  Meyer  (1836),  Knapp 
(1837),  Freiberg  (1839),  Daniel  (1840),  Lisco  (1842),  von  Seld 
(1842),  Loschke  (1842),  Baltzer  (1842),  Graul  (1842),  Schlosser 
(1863),  Konigsfeld  (1865). 

I  give  the  full  text  of  three,  and  one  or  two  stanzas  of  the 
best  of  the  otliers.  They  are  all  found  in  Lisco's  monograph, 
except  those  of  Schlosser  and  Konigsfeld. 


THE  STABAT  MATER  DOLOROSA. 


211 


IIerm.  Adalb.  Daniel  (1840). 
From  his  Thesaurus  ITymnoIogicus,  il,  135,  and  Lisco's  Stabat  llatcr,  p.  15. 


Yoller  Thriincn,  voUer  Schmerzen, 
Stand  die  Mutter,  wund  im  Ilerzen 

An  dem  Krcuz,  da  Jesus  hing ; 
Durch  die  Sccle  graraumliiillet 
Seufzcrschwer  und  Qualerfiillet 

Eincs  Schwcrtes  Sehlirle  ging. 


0.   Ileirge  IMuttcr  !  alle  "Wundcn, 

So  dein  Solm  am  Kreuz  empfunden, 

Di-ucke  ticf  sie  in  mein  Ilerz. 
Wundgcschlagen  hat  voll  Zagen 
FUr  mich  Plagen  Christ  getragen — 

Gicb  mir  Theil  an  seinem  Schmerz. 


Ach,  wie  elend,  wie  gebeuget 
War,  die  Gottes  Kind  geslluget, 

Einst  vom  Engel  benedcit : 
Nun  voll  Beben  sieht  sie  schweben 
Dort  ihr  Leben,  hingegeben 

In  des  bittern  Todes  Leid. 


7.   Lass  im  Weinen  uns  vereinen. 
Den  Gckreuzigten  bcweinen 

Will  auc-li  ich  mein  Leben  lang. 
An  dem  Kreuz  mit  dir  zu  stehen, 
Mich  im  Leid  dir  Eins  zu  sehen 

Sehnt  der  Seele  Liebesdrangr. 


3.   Wer  ist  Mensch,  der  nicht  beweinct 


Christi  Mutter,  die  erscheinet 
So   voll   Schmerzen,    Schmach 
Ilohn  ? 
Ohne  Lied,  wer  kcinnte  sehen, 
Diese  fromme  Mutter  stehen 
Die  da  Icidet  mit  dem  Sohn  ? 


und 


8.  AUer  Jungfraun  Krone  !  briinstig 
Fleh  ich  :  lass  mich  hold  und  giin- 
stig 
Mit  dir  klagen  um  den  Sohn ; 
Lass  mich  erben  Christi  Sterben, 
Seine  Marter  mich  erwerbcn, 
Schmecken  seine  Passion. 


FUr  die  Sunden  seiner  Brlidcr 
Sieht  sie  ihres  Jesu  Glieder 

Wie  die  Geissel  sie  zerreisst:    \ 
Sieht  ihr  susses  Kind  erblassen, 
Sieht  den  Sohn  von  Gott  verlasscn, 

Und  verhauchen  ihn  den  Geist. 


Wundcnmale  lass  mir  fliessen, 
Mich  in  Liebesrausch  ergiessen 

Zu  dem  Kreuz  mit  deinem  Sohn  : 
Und  um  solchen  Eifcrs  Flammen 
Lass  mich,  Jungfrau,  nicht  verdam- 
nien 

Yor  dcs  Wcltenrichtcrs  Thron. 


5.  Fromme  Mutter  !  Quell  der  Liebe, 
Gieb  dass  innigst  mich  betriibe 

All  dein  Leid  und  deine  Pein. 
Christo  lass  mein  Ilerz  entbrenncn. 
Lass  mich  Ilerr  und  Gott  ihn  nenncn, 
Mich  ihm  wohlsrefallijr  sein. 


10.  Christi  Kreuz  lass  mich  bcschiitzen 
Christi  Tod  als  Schild  mir  niitzen, 

Schirmen  seine  GnUdigkeit: 
Und  zerf  iillt  der  Leib  hienieden, 
Lass  der  Seele  sein  bcschieden 

Paradieses  Ilerrlichkeit. 


Albert  Kxapp  (1837). 

From  his  Licdersehatz^  and  the  new  WUrttemherg  Hymn-book  of  1842. 

An  evangelical  transformation. 


Schaut  die  Mutter  voUer  Schmerzen, 
Wie  sie  mit  zerriss'nem  Herzen 

Bei  dem  Kreuz  des  Sohnes  steht ! 
Schauet  ihre  Triibsalshitze, 
Wie  des  Schvvertes  blut'ge  Spitze 
Tief  durch  ihre  Seele  geht ! 


[2.  Welches  tiefen  Jammers  Beute 
Wurde  die  gebenedeito 

Mutter  dieses  Einzigen! 
Welch  ein  Trauern,  welch  ein  Zagen, 
Welch  ein  Ringen,  welch  ein  Nagen, 
Bei  der  Schmach  des  Gottlichen  !]^ 


^  This  stanza  is  omitted  by  Knapp  and  inserted  from  the  version  of  Fr. 
von  Meyer,  who  likewise  removed  the  elements  of  Roman  Mariolatry. 


212 


THE  STABAT  MATER  DOLOROSA. 


3.  Wessen  Auge  kann  der  ZUhren 
Bei  dein  Jammer  sich  erwehren, 

Der  des  Hochsten  Sohn  umfangt? 
Wie  Er  mit  gelass'nem  Muthe 
Todesmatt  in  seinem  Blute 

An  dem  Holz  des  Fluches  hanst ! 


7.  Lass  mich  herzlich  mit  Dir  weinen, 
Mich  durch's  Kreuz  mit  Dir  vereinen ; 

Aller  Weltsinn  sei  verfluclit ! 
Untcr'm  Kreuze  will  ieh  stehen, 
Und  Dich  zittern,  bluten  sehen, 

Wenn  die  Siinde  mich  versucht. 


4.  Fiir  die  Siinden  seiner  Briider 
Leidet  Er,  dass  seine  Glieder 

Unnennbare  Qual  zerreisst. 
Fiir  uns  ruft  Er  im  Erblassen  : 
Gott,  mein  Gott,  ich  bin  verlassen  ! 

Und  verathmet  Seinen  Geist. 

5.  Lass,  0  Jesu,  Quell  der  Liebe, 
Deines  Ilerzens  heil'ge  Triebe 

Stromen  in  mein  Herz  hinab  ! 
Lass  mich  Dich  mein  Alles  nennen, 
Ganz  fiir  Dich  in  Liebe  brennen, 

Der  fiir  mich  Sein  Leben  gab  ! 

6.  Driick,  mein  Konig,  Deine  Wunden, 
Die  Du  auch  fiir  mich  erapfunden, 

Tief  in  meine  Seel'  hinein. 
Lass  in  Reue  mich  zerfliessen, 
Mit  Dir  leiden,  mit  Dir  biissen, 

Mit  Dir  tragen  jede  Pein. 


8.  Gieb  mir  Theil  an  Deinem  Leiden, 
Lass  von  aller  Lust  mich  scheiden. 

Die  Dir  solche  Wunden  schlug  ! 
Ich  will  auch  mir  Wunden  schlagen. 
Will  das  Kreuz  des  Lammes  tragen, 

Welches  meine  Siinden  trug. 

9.  Lass,  wenn  meine  Thriinen  flie^sen, 
Mich  den  Gnadenglanz  geniessen 

Deines  milden  Angesichtsj 
Decke  mich  durch  Deine  Plagen 
Vor  den  Aengsten  und  den  Klagen 

Einst  am  Tage  des  Gerichts. 

10.  Gegen  aller  Feinde  Stiirmen 

Lass    mich,    Ilerr,    Dein    Kreuz    be- 
schirmen, 
Deine  Gnade  leuchte  mir  I 
Deckt  des  Grabes  finstre  Hohle 
Meinen  Leib,  so  nimm  die  Seele 
Hin  in's  Paradies  zu  Dir. 


Dr.  G.  a.  Konigsfeld  (1865). 

From  his  Latcinische  Hymnen  und  Gesdnge  aus  dem  3IiiielaUer.  Neue  Samm- 
lung.  Bonn,  1865.  The  author  made  two  translations,  the  first  of  which 
appeared  in  1847,  and  begins  : — 

"  Weinend  stand  die  schmerzgeheugte 
Mutter  an  dem  Kreuz,  das  feuchte 


Auge  an  dem  Sohin 

1.  Thranenvoll,  in  Gram  zerflossen,  3. 

Stand  am  Kreuz  des  gottlich  Grossen 

Mutter,  wo  Er  sterbend  hing; 
Durch    das    Ilerz,    das    Gram    dureh- 

wUhlte, 
Das  ganz  mit  Ihm  litt  und  fiihlte, 
Ihr  des  Schwertes  Schneide  King;. 


hing." 

Welch    ein    Mensch    sollt'    da    nicht 

weinen, 
Sieht  die  Mutter  er  erscheinen. 

In  so  tiefcn  Jammers  Noth  ? 
Wer  nicht  mit  ihr  trauernd  stehen, 
Wenn  die  Mutter  er  gesehen 

Duldend  mit  dem  Sohn  den  Tod. 


AVie  war  traurig,  voller  Schmerzcn, 
Die  begnadet  trug  am  Ilerzcn 

Ihn,  den  eingebornen  Sohn  ! 
Wie  sie  jammertc  und  klagte, 
Wie  sic  zitterte  und  zagte, 

Bei  des  Ilohcn  Qual  und  Ilohn. 


4.  Fiir  der  ganzen  Menr^chheit  Siinden 
Sah  sie  Jesum  martern,  binden, 

Wilder  Geisselhiebe  Ziel ; 
Sah  den  Ilolden  sie  erblassen, 
In  dem  Todeskampf  verlassen, 

Als  des  Geistes  lliille  fiel. 


THE  STABAT  MATER   DOLOROSA. 


213 


5.  Darum  Mutter,  Quell  der  Ilulden, 
Lass  micli  mit  dir  fiihlcn,  dulden, 

Theilen  diese  Schmerzen  all; 
Lehr'  meiu  Herz  mit  Glutentrieben 
Christum,  Gottes  Sohn,  zu  lioben, 

Dass  ich  Ihm  nur  wobl<refair. 


8,  Jungfrau,  aller  Jungfrau'n  Krone, 
Sei  mir  hold  auf  deinem  Throne, 
Lass  mich  mit  dir  traurig  sein  ; 
Lass  mich  tragcn  ohne  Zagen, 
Mit  Ihm  theilend  Christi  Plagen, 
Seiner  Wunden  Schmerz  erneun. 


6,  Ilcil'ge  Mutter,  hilf  vollbringen, 
Dass  des  Kreuzes  Male  dringen 

Tief  mir  in  das  Ilerz  hinein; 
Und  der  Wunden,  werthbet'unden, 
Deines  Sohn's,  mich  zu  gesunden, 

Lass  auch  mich  theilhaftig  sein. 


9.  Ja,  in  dicsen  Sehmerz  vcrsunken, 
Mach'  durch  dieses  Kreuz  mich  trun- 
ken, 
Durch  das  Blut  von  deinem  Sohn  ; 
Mich  vom  Feuerpfuhl  zu  rettcn, 
Mogest  du  mich  einst  vertreten, 
Jungfrau  !  an  des  Richters  Thron ! 


7.  Lass  mich  trauernd  mit  dir  klagen, 
Mit  Ihm,  der  an's  Kreuz  geschlagen, 

Durch  mein  ganzes  Leben  lang ; 
Zu  dir  an  das  Kreuz  mich  stellen, 
Gern  mich,  Mutter,  dir  gesellen, 
In  der  tiefsten  Sehnsucht  Drang. 


10.  Lass  dies  Kreuz  mich  vor  Verderben 
"Wahren,  und  durch  Christi  Sterben 

Schenk'  mir  Gnade  allezeit; 
Und  wenn  dieser  Leib  zergangen, 
Lass  die  Seele  dort  erlangen 

Paradieses  Herrlichkeit ! 


Heeemanx,  Monk  of  Salzburg, 
1366-96. 
1.  Maria  stuend  in  swinden  smerczen 
pey  dem  kreucz  und  waint  von  herczen 

da  ir  werder  sun  an  hieng. 
Jr  geadelte  czartte  sele 
ser  betruebt  in  jamers  quele 

scharff  ein  sneyduntz  swert  durch- 
gieng. 

J.  C.  Lavatee,  1785. 
1.  Jesu  Mutter! — Ach,  wie  schmerzlich  ! 
Stand  am  Kreuz  und  weinte  herzlich, 

"Weil  ihr  Sohn  da  blutend  hing! 
Durch  die  tiefbeklemmte,  reine 
Seel',  und  Mark  und  die  Gebeine 
Drang   ein    scharf   zweischneidend 
Schwert ! 

Fe.  Jos.  Weinzieel, 
In  Cath.  Hymu-book,  Sulzbach,  1816. 
1.  Jesu  Mutter  stand  betrlibet 
Bey  dem  Sohn,  den  sie  geliebet, 

Als  Er  an  dem  Kreuze  hing, 
Wie  war  sie  voll  tiefer  Trauer, 
Als  das  Schwert  mit  Todesschauer 
Ihr  empfindsam  Herz  durchging. 


Catholic  Hymx-book,  Erfurt, 

1816. 
1.  Seht  die  Mutter  voller  Schmerzen, 
Wie  sie  mit  betriibtem  Ilerzen 

Bel  dem  Sohn  am  Kreuze  steht ! 
Wie  sie  weinet,  wie  sie  leidet, 
Wie  ein  Schwert  ihr  Herz  durchschnei- 
det, 
Und  durch  ihre  Seele  geht. 


Yon  BiJLOw,  1817. 

1.  Weinend  stand  in  Schmerz  verloren 
Die  den  lleiland  uns  geboren, 

Unter  ihm  am  Kreuzes-Fuss; 
Jammervoll  zu  ihm  gewendet, 
Seufzer  bang  ihr  Herz  entsendct, 

Das      ein     Schwert      durchbohrcn 
muss. 

2.  Ach,  wohl  keine  Mutter  driickte 
Schwerer  Leid,  als  die  beglUckto 

Dieses  Eingebornen  hier. 
Die  in  Klagen  und  Yerzagen 
Ganz  zerschlagen  sah  die  Plagen 

Solchen  Sohn's  vor  Augen  ihr. 


214 


THE  STABAT  MATER  DOLOROSA. 


Baron  De  la  Motte  Fouque,  1817. 

1.  Als  die  Schmerzensmutter  sehnend 
Stand  am  Kreuz,  ihr  Auge  thranend, 

Weil  der  Sohn  erblieh  in  Schmach, 
Da  geschah's  der  Allerbangsten, 
Dass  cin  Schwert  in  tauseud  Aengsten 

Durch    die     Seel'    ihr    schneidend 
brach. 

2.  0  wie  viel  des  Jammers  reilite 
Sich  um  die  Gebenedeite, 

Die  gebar  des  Heiles  Stern, 
Die  voll  Zagen,  kaum  zu  tragen, 
Bang'  in  Klagen  sab  gcscblagen 

An  das  Kreuz  den  Sohn  und  Ilerrn  ! 

Adolf  Ludw.  Follex,  1819. 

1.  An  dem  Kreuz  die  schmerzenreiche, 
Thriinenvolle,  kummerbleiche 

Mutter  bei  dem  Sohne  stcht. 
Schwerbetrtibet,  Marter  leidend, 
Tiefauf  stohnend ;  ihr  ein  schneidend 

Messer  durch  die  Seele  geht. 

2.  0  wie  traurig,  grambeladen, 
Ilochgesegnet  Weib  in  Gnaden, 

Das  den  Eingebornen  trug! — 
Wie  sie  klagte  !  wie  sie  zagte  ! 
Schmerz  zernagte  die  Geplagte, 

Als  Gott-Sohn  die  Pein  ertrug. 

G.  Chr.  Fe.  Mohxike,  1825. 

1.  An  dem  Kreuze  voller  Schmerzen, 
Stand  die  Mutter,  Gram  im  Herzen, 

Sah  des  liebcn  Sohnes  Pein  ! 
In  die  Seel'  ihr  voll  Verzagen, 
Voller  Bcben,  voller  Klagen, 

Drang  nunmehr  das  Schwert  hinein. 

2.  0  der  Trauer,  o  der  Leiden 
Jener  Ilochgebenedeiten, 

Die  den  Gottcssohn  gebar! 
Konnt  der  Ziihren  sich  nicht  wehren, 
Sah  den  hehren  Sohn  entehren, 

Seine  Schmach  ward  sic  gewahr. 

Feeiiierr  J.  H.  vox  Wessenbeeg. 

Constance,  1825. 
1.  Weincnd,  mit  zerrissnem  Ilerzen 

Stand  die  INIutter,  voll  der  Schmerzen, 
Bei  dem  Kreuz,  zum  Sohn  gekehrt. 


Durch  die  bang'  umwolkte  Seele 
Dunkel,  wie  des  Grabes  Hohle, 

Drang  das  Leiden,  wie  ein  Schwert. 

Michael  Kosmeli,  M.D.,  1831. 

1.  Weinend  mit  betriibtem  Herzen, 
Stand  die  Mutter  voller  Schmerzen, 

Als  der  Sohn  am  Kreuze  hing, 
Und  den  Kelch  des  Leidens  leerte; 
Ihr  das  Weh  gleich  einem  Schwerte 

Durch  die  bange  Seele  ging. 

Baeox  Franz  Von  Maltitz,  1834. 

1.  Weinend  stand  die  schmerzenreiche 
Bei  dem  Kreuz,  an  dem  der  bleiche 

Sohn  im  Todeskampfe  rang; 
Seufzer  im  zerrissnen  Ilerzen, 
Ihre  Brust  der  bittern  Schmerzen 

Siebenfaches  Schwert  durchdrang. 

2.  Welche  Worte  konnten  malen 
Um  den  Einz'gen  deine  Qualen 

Mutter  hochgebenedeit  ? 
Wer  uns  sagen,  wer  uns  klagen, 
Was  voll  Zagen  du  getragen 

Bei  dem  Opfer  Gott  geweiht  ? 

K.  Jos.  SiMEOCK,  1834. 

1.  Stand  die  Mutter  voller  Schmerzen, 
Weinte  bei  dem  Kreuz  von  Ilerzen, 

Wo  der  Sohn  herniederhing ; 
Der  die  Seele  voll  Verzagens, 
Voll  der  Seufzer,  voll  des  Klagens, 

Ein  zci'schneidend  Schwert  durch- 
ging. 

2.  0  wie  traurig  ihm  zur  Scito 
Musste  die  gebenedeite 

Ein'gen  Sohnes  Mutter  sein  ! 
Klag  erhebend,  sich  ergebend 
Angsterbebcnd,  nun  erlebend 

Des  erhab'nen  Sohnes  Pein. 

Joii.  Fe.  VON  Meyee,  183G. 

1,  Bei  dem  Kreuz  die  schmerzenreiche 
Mutter  stand,  die  thriinenrciche, 
Da  ihr  Sohn  im  Sterbcn  hing. 
Ach,  ein  Schwert  ihr  durch  die  warme, 
Seufzende,  so  trostesarmo, 
Schwergebeugto  Seele  ging. 


THE  STABAT  :MATER  DOLOROSA. 


215 


Fr.  Vox  Pechlix,  1840. 
1.  Weinend  stand  auf  Golgatha, 
Schmerzenrcich  die  Mutter  da, 

Als  ihr  Sobn  am  Kreuzo  hing: 
Deren  seufzervolle  Brust, 
Bebend  sieh  dos  AYeh's  bewusst, 
Jetzt  des  Schwertes  Stoss  empfing. 


0  wie  traiirig  ibm  zur  Seite 
Stand  die  Ilocbgcbcnedeite, 

Die  gebahr  den  Gottessohn  ! 
Welebe  klagte,  sich  zernagte, 
Und  verzagte,  da  man  wagte 

An  dem  Heiland  grauseu  Hohu. 


Robert  Lecke,  1842. 

1.  Bel  dem  Kreuz  in  Tbrancngii^sen, 
Stand  die  Mutter  schmerzzerrisscn, 

Als  der  Sobn  in  Qualcn  bing. 
Deren  Busen  ticf  aufaebzend, 
Kummervoll  nacb  Trostung  lechzend, 
Ein     scbarf    scbneidend      Scbwort 
durcbfincr. 


2.  0  wie  traurig  die  betriibte 
Mutter  war,  die  allgeliebte 

Gottessobn-Gebabrerin  ! 
Die  da  klagte,  sicb  zernagte, 
Und  verzagte,  als  sie  wagte 

Blicke  auf  den  Dulder  bin. 


Friedrich  Gustav  Lisco,  1842. 

1.  An  dem  Kreuz,  in  Scbmerz  verloren, 
Wo  Er  bing,  den  sie  geboren, 

Stand  die  Mutter  leidbewusst ; 
Ihre  Seele  war  voll  Beben, 
Hin  in  Angst  und  Web  gegeben, 

Und   ein   Scbwert   ging  durcb    die 
Brust. 

2.  Acb,  welcb  scbwerer  Kummer  driicktc 
Sie,  des  ein'gen  Sobns  begluckte 

Mutter,  wie  gebeugt  war  sie  ! 
Jetzt  muss  "Weben,  Scbmerzergeben, 
Leidensboben  sie  besteben 

Ob  des  Sobnes  Leidensmiib. 


AxoxYMOUS,  1842. 

1.  An  dem  Kreuze  voller  Scbmerzen, 
TbrUnenblickcnd,  Qual  im  Ilerzen, 

Stand  Maria,  leidbcscbwert. 
Seufzen  musste  sie  und  weinen 
Bei  dem  Tod  des  Heil'gen,  Beinen, 
Und     ibr     Herz     durcbdrang     das 
Scbwert. 

Barox  vox  Seed,  1842. 

1.  An  dem  Kreuze  scbmerzversunken 
Stand  die  Mutter  tbriinentrunken, 

Als  der  Sobn,  der  tbeure,  litt; 
Ibre  Seele  voller  Traucr, 
Ibre  Seufzer  Todesscbauer, 

Und  ein  Scbwert  durcb's  Herz  ibr 
scbnitt. 

A.  Merget,  1842. 

1.  An  dem  Kreuze  stand  die  blciche, 
Tbranenvolle,  scbmerzcnreicbe 

Mutter,  da  der  Heiland  litt ; 
Deren  bange,  gramumbiillte, 
Seufzerscbwere,  qualerfiillte 

Seele  jetzt  das  Scbwert  durcbscbnitt. 

2.  0  wie  tief  gebeugt  vom  Leide 
War  die  hocbgebenedeite 

Mutter  des  Erltiscrs  da; 
AVelcbes  Zagen,  welebe  Klagen, 
Als  des  beil'gen  Sobnes  Plagen 

Die  getreue  Mutter  sab  ! 

Carl  Grau,  1843. 

1.  Stand  am  Kreuz  die  sebmerzenreicbe 
Mutter,  die  von  Tbriinen  bleicbe, 

Als  der  Sobn  gemartert  hing; 
Durcb  die  Seele,  die  verzagte, 
Die  zernagte,  die  geplagte, 

Eines  Scbwertes  Scbneide  ging. 

J.  F.  PI.  SCHLOSSER. 
From  his  Die  Kirclie  in  ihrcn  Liedern. 
Freiburg  i.  B.,2d  ed.,  1863,  vol.  i.,  205. 
1.  Stand  die  Mutter  qualentragend 
An  dem  Kreuze,  und  erklagend, 

Wo  der  Yielgeliebte  bing  : 
Deren  Seele  bangerstrebend, 
Angstbeladen  und  erbebend, 
Tief  ein  scharfes  Scbwert  durcbging. 


216         THE  STAB  AT  MATER  DOLOROSA. 

Karl  Foetlage,  1844.  Kael  Rolkee,  1882. 

Thriinenvoll  mit  scliwerem  Herzen  Christi  Mutter  stand  voll  Schmerzen 

Stand  die  Mutter  voller  Schmerzen,  Bei  dem  Kreuz  niit  schwerem  Herzen, 

Als  der  Sohn  am  Kreuze  hing ;  Wo  ihr  Solm  im  Sterben  hing. 

Und  durch  ihre  Brust  voll  Trauer,  Durch  die  Seele  ihr  voll  Trauer 

Krampfgepresst  im  Todesschauer  Seufzend  unter  bangcm  Schauer, 

Eines  Schwertes  Schneide  ging.  Tief  das  Schwert  der  Leiden  ging. 


LITERATURE. 
Lucas  Wadding  (the  learned  Irisli  historian  of  the  Franciscan  Order) : 
Scriptorcs  Ord.  Minorum,  Rom.,  1650  (fols.  180,  181)  ;  Annalcs  3Iinorum  scu 
trium  a  S.  Francisco  institutorum  (21  vols,  in  all),  Rom.  2d  ed.,  1731,  sqq.,  vol. 
IV.,  407  sqq. ;  v.,  606,  sqq. ;  VI.,  76  sqq.  (A  copy  of  this  work  is  in  the  Astor 
Library,  New  York.) 

G.  C.  F.  MOHNIKE  :  Kirchen-  und  liter arhistorische  Sfudien  und  3Iiiiheilun- 
gen.  Stralsund,  1824,  vol.  i..  Heft  il.,  pp.  335-435.  (Two  essays  on  Jacobus 
de  Benedictis  and  on  the  Stabat  Mater  Dolorosa. ) 

Fr.  Gustav  Lisco  (d.d.,  pastor  in  Berlin)  :  Stalat  Mater.  Hymnus  auf 
die  Schmerzen  der  3Iaria.  Nehst  einem  Nachtrage  zu  den  Ucbersetzungen  des 
Hymnus  Dies  Irx.  Berlin,  1843,  4to,  pp.  56.  (Contains  in  3  parallel  columns 
the  text  of  53  German  translations,  with  a  history  of  the  hymn,  and  a 
chronological  list  of  78  German  and  four  Dutch  versions  complete  and  incom- 
plete, of  the  3Iater  Dolorosa  from  1396  to  1842.) 

A.  F.  OzANAM  :  Les  Poetes  Franciscains  en  Italie  au  XIIP  siecle,  avec  un 
choix  des  petites  fleurs  de  Saint-Frangois,  traduites  de  V Italien.  Paris,  1852 ; 
troisifeme  ed.  1859  (pp.  472).  There  is  a  German  translation  of  this  important 
work  by  N.  H.  Julius,  Munster,  1853. 

T.  J.  MoNE  :  Lateinische  Hymnen  des  Mittelalters  (Freiburg,  i.  B.,  1853 
sqq.),  Vol.  IL,  147-153  ;  ill.,  425. 

H.  A.  Daniel:  Thesaurus  Hymnol.  Lipsise,  Vol.  ii.  (1855),  131-154;  and 
Vol.  V.  (1856),  59  (the  text  of  Mone). 

J.  M.  N,[eale]:  Stalyat  Mater  Speciosa.     London,  1867. 
Philip  Schaff  :  A  New  Stabat  Mater,  in  "Hours  at  Home,"  N.  York, 
May,  1866  ;  Christ  in  Song,  N.  Y.  and  London,  1869,  p.  136  sqq. 

Erastus  C.  Benedict  (lawyer  in  New  York,  d.  1880):  The  Hymn  of  Hilde- 
hert  and  other  Mcdiseval  Hymns  with  Translations,  New  York,  1867  (pp.  128). 
Contains  a  translation  of  the  Mater  Dolorosa,  p.  65. 

The  Seven  Great  Hymns  of  the  Mediseval  Church  (by  Mrs.  A.  E.  Nott), 
New  York,  5th  ed.,  1868.  The  5th  ed.  contains  3  versions  of  the  Mater 
Dolorosa  (by  Lord  Lindsay,  Gen.  Dix  and  Coles),  and  Neale's  version  of  the 
Mater  Speciosa. 

Abraham  Coles  (m.d.,  ll.d.,  of  Scotch  Plains,  N.  Jersey):  Stabat  3Tater, 
Hymn  of  the  Sorroics  of  Mary,  translated,  loith  photograph.  New  York  (D. 
Appleton  &  Co.),  1867;  second  ed.,  1868,  pp.  37.  By  the  same:  Stabat  3Tater 
Speciosa.  Hymn  of  the  Joys  of  3Iary.  With  Photograph  (Madonna  di  Sisto). 
New  York,  1868,  pp.  25. 


THE   STABAT  MATER  DOLOROSA.  217 

John  D.  Van  Buren:  The  Stahat  Mater  and  other  Versions.  Albany,  N.  Y. 
(Joel  Munsell),  1872. 

R.  Lai'XMANN  :  Jacopone  da  Todi,  in  Herzog's  "Encykl.,"  revised  ed., 
Yl.,  432-436.     Condensed  and  suj^plemented  in  SchafT-Herzog,  ii.,  1138. 

W.  Storck  :  Ausgeicdhlte  Gedichte  Jacopone^ s  da  Todi.  Dcutsch  von  C. 
Schlilfcr  vnd  W.  Storck.     Munster,  1864. 

Karl  Rolker:  Gedichte  nebst  geschichtlichen  Anhang :  Jacopone^ s  Leben  und 
Ueher  das  Stabat  dlater  (pp.  125-160).     Osnabruck,  1882. 

Franklin  Johnson  :  The  Stabat  Mater  Speciosa  and  the  Stabat  3Iater  Dolo- 
rosa. With  illustrations  from  the  Old  3Tastcrs.  Boston  (D.  Lothrop  &  Co.), 
1886  (pp.  36).  The  original,  with  translations  and  photogravure  reproductions 
of  six  paintings,  namely,  the  Sistine  Madonna  of  Raphael,  the  Ecce  Homo 
of  Guido,  the  Madonna  della  Scala  of  Corregio,  the  ]\Iadonna  del  Granducca 
of  Raphael,  the  Mater  Dolorosa  of  Guido,  and  St.  John  and  Mary  by  Plock- 
hurst. 

Comp.  also  the  list  of  -works  on  Latin  Hymnology,  most  of  which  have 
some  notice  of  the  Stabat  3Iater,  in  Schaff 's  Church  History,  Vol.  iv.,  416-420. 


THE  STABAT  MATER  SPECIOSA. 

See  the  Literature  in  the  preceding  essay,  p.  216,  especially  Ozanam. 

THE  LATIN  TEXT. 
To  facilitate  tlie  comparison  we  put  the  corresponding  stanzas 
of  the  Mater  Dolorosa  and  Mater  Speciosa  in  parallel 
columns.     The  latter  has  twelve  stanzas,  as  given  by  Ozanam 
(1.  c.  p.  170  sq.). 


Mater  Speciosa. 

Stabat  Mater  speciosa, 
Juxta  fcenum  gaudiosa, 

Dum  jacebat  parvulus ; 
Cujus  animam  gaudentem 
Lactabundam  ac  ferventem 

Pertransivit  jubilus. 


Mater  Dolorosa. 

Stabat  Mater  dolorosa, 
Juxta  crucem  lacrymosa, 

Dum  pendebat  Filius ; 
Cujus  animam  gementem 
Contristatam  ac  dolentem 

Pertransivit  gladius. 


2.  O  quam  laeta  et  beata 
Fuit  ilia  immaculata 

Mater  Unigeniti ! 
Quae  gaudebat  et  ridebat, 
Exultabat,  cum  videbat 

Nati  partum  inclyti. 


O  quam  tristis  et  afflicta 
Fuit  ilia  benedicta 

Mater  Unigeniti ! 
Quae  mcerebat  et  dolebat 
Et  tremebat,  cum  videbat 

Nati  poenas  inclyti. 


Quis  [jam]  est,  qui  non  gau- 

deret, 
Christi  Matrem  si  videret 

In  tanto  solatio  ? 
Quis  non  posset  collsetari, 
Christi  Matrem  contemplari 

Ludentem  cum  Filio  ? 


Quis  est  homo,  qui  non  fleret, 
Matrem  Christi  si  videret 

In  tanto  supplicio  ? 
Quis  non  posset  contristari, 
Piam  Matrem  contemplari 

Dolentem  cum  Filio. 


Pro  peccatis  suae  gentis 
Christum  vidit  cum  jumentis 

Et  algori  subditum ; 
Vidit  suum  dulcem  natum 
Vagientem,  adoratum, 

Vili  diversorio. 
218 


Pro  peccatis  suae  gentis 
Vidit  Jesum  in  tormentis 

Et  flagellis  subditum; 
Vidit  suum  dulcem  natum 
Morientem,  desolatum, 

Dum  emisit  spiritum. 


THE  STABAT  MATER  SPECIOSA. 


219 


[5.  Nato  Christo  in  prsesepe, 
Cceli  cives  canunt  laete 

Cum  immenso  gaudio ; 
Stabat  senex  cum  puella 
Non  cum  verbo  nee  loquela, 

Stupescentes  cordibus,] 


6.  Eia  Mater,  fons  amoris  ! 
Me  sentire  vim  ardoris, 

Fac  ut  tecum  sentiam  ! 
Fac,  ut  ardeat  cor  meum 
In  amando  Christum  Deum, 

Ut  sibi  complaceam. 


Eia  Mater,  fons  amoris  ! 
Me  sentire  vim  doloris 

Fac,  ut  tecum  lugeam ! 
Fac,  ut  ardeat  cor  meum 
In  amando  Christum  Deum 

Ut  sibi  complaceam. 


Sancta  Mater,  istud  agas  : 
Prone  introducas  plagas, 

Cordi  fixas  valide. 
Tui  nati  ccelo  lapsi. 
Jam  dignati  fceno  nasci 

Pcenas  mecum  divide. 


6.  Sancta  Mater,  istud  agas 
Crucifixi  fige  plagas 

Cordi  meo  valide. 
Tui  nati  vulnerati 
Tam  dignati  pro  me  pati 

Poenas  mecum  divide. 


8.   Fac  me  vere  congaudere, 
Jesulino  cohaerere. 

Donee  ego  vixero. 
In  me  sistat  ardor  tui; 
Puerino  fac  me  frui 

Dum  sum  in  exilio. 
Hunc  ardorem  fac  communem, 
Ne  me  facias  immunem 

Ab  hoc  desiderio. 


7.  Fac  me  tecum  vere  flere 
Crucifixo  condolere, 

Donee  ego  vixero. 
Juxta  crucem  tecum  stare 
Te  libenter  sociare 

In  planctu  desidero. 


Virgo  virginum  praeclara, 
Mihi  jam  non  sis  amara; 

Fac,  me  parvum  rapere. 
Fac,  ut  pulchrum  fantem  por- 

tem,i 
Qui  nascendo  vicit  mortem, 

Volens  vitam  tradere. 


8.  Virgo  virginum  praeclara, 
Mihi  tam  non  sis  amara  ; 

Fac  me  tecum  plangere. 
Fac  ut  portem  Christi  mortem 
Passionis  fac  consortem 

Et  plagas  recolere. 


10.  Fac  me  tecum  satiari, 
Nato  tuo  inebriari, 
Stantem  in  tripudio. 


9.  Fac  me  plagis  vulnerari 
Cruce  hac  inebriari 
Ob  amorem  Filii. 


lOzanam  reads:    "Fac  ut  portem  pulchrum  fantem."     But  "fantem" 
does  not  rhyme  with  "mortem." 

2  I  suggest  this  as  an  emendation  for  the  obvious  mistake  of  the  original, 
as  given  by  Ozanam — 

''  Stans  inter  iripudia.''^ 


220  THE  STAB  AT  MATER  SPECIOSA. 

Inflammatus  et  accensus  Inflammatus  et  accensus 

Obstupescit  omnis  sensus  Per  te,  Virgo,  sim  defensus 

Tali  de  commercio.  In  die  judicii. 

II.  Fac  me  nato  custodiri,  lo.  Fac  me  cruce  custodiri, 
Verbo  Dei  praemuniri,  Morte  Christi  praemuniri, 

Conservari  gratia.  Confoveri  gratia. 

Quando  corpus  morietur,  Quando  corpus  morietur, 

Fac,  ut  animae  donetur  Fac  ut  animee  donetur 

Tui  nati  visio.^  Paradisi  gloria. 

[i2.  Omnes  stabulum  amantes, 
Et  pastores  vigilantes 

Pernoctantes  sociant. 
Per  virtutem  nati  tui 
Ora  ut  electi  sui 
Ad  patriam  veniant. 

Amen.] 


THE  DISCOVERY  OF  THE  MATER  SPECIOSA. 

The  discovery  of  a  companion  hymn  to  the  Mater  Dolo- 
rosa from  the  same  age,  if  not  by  the  same  author,  created  not 
a  little  sensation  among  hymnologists  and  lovers  of  poetry. 

The  Mater  Speciosa  is  contained  in  the  same  edition  of  the 
Italian  poems  of  Jacopone,  published  at  Brescia  in  1495,  which 
contains  the  Mater  Dolorosa,^  but  it  was  buried  in  obscurity 
until  1852,  when  a  French  scholar,  A.  F.  Ozanam,  brought  it 
to  light  in  a  work  on  the  Franciscan  poets.^  An  improved  Ger- 
man edition  of  this  work,  by  Julius,  1853,  contained  an  admi- 

1  Ozanam  and  Diepenbrock  give  this  as  the  concluding  stanza,  and  regard 
the  twelfth  as  an  addition  by  another  hand.  Ozanaiu,  Les  poetes  Franciscains, 
p.  170  sq.,  gives  the  Latin  text  in  23  (25)  stanzas  of  three  lines  each. 

"^Le  laude  del  Beato  frate  Jacopon  del  sacro  ordine  de'' frail  minor i  de  obser- 
vantia.  Stampate  in  la  mar/nifica  ciia  de  Bresca.  1495.  I  copy  the  title  from 
Brunet's  Manuel  da  Libraire,  Tom.  III.,  484  (5th  ed.,  Paris,  1862),  who 
describes  the  contents,  and  says: — '^  Le  n^  107  contient  le  S'Jabat  Matee, 
que  Wadding  a  restitiie  il  Jacopone,  et  le  no  123  une  sorte  de  parodie  da  StA- 
BAT,  qui  commence  ainsi :  Stabat  Mater  Speciosa — JusTA  fexum  gaudi- 
OSA."  Mohnike  [1.  c.  p.  375),  and  Lisco  (p.  24)  mention  the  existence  of 
the  Mater  Speciosa,  but  they  never  saw  it. 

^  Les  poetes  Franciscains  en  Italie  au  XIII^  siecle,  avec  un  choiv  de  petites 
Fleurs  de  Saint-Francois,  trad,  de  V  If  alien.  Paris,  1852,  third  ed.  1859.  Oza- 
nam gives  a  good  account  of  St.  Francis  and  Jacopone,  and  thus  characterizes 


THE  STABAT  MATER  SPECIOSA.  221 

rable  German  translation  of  the  newly-discovered  poem,  by 
Cardinal  Melchior  Diepenbrock,  then  prince-bishop  (F'drsibischof) 
of  Breslau,  a  very  pious  and  accomplished  prelate  of  the  evan- 
gelical school  of  Sailer.^ 

Dr.  John  ^lason  Neale,  the  distinguished  Anglican  divine  of 
the  Anglo-Catholic  school,  and  reproducer  of  the  choicest  Greek 
and  Latin  hymns,  introduced  the  Mater  Speciosa,  with  a  trans- 
lation, to  the  English  public  a  few  days  before  his  death  (August 
6,  1866),  and  thus  closed  his  brilliant  and  useful  hymnological 
labors/''  The  poem  is  now  as  w^ell  known  as  the  Mater  Dolo- 
rosa, and  wdll  always  be  mentioned  as  its  companion. 

the  two  Stabat  Matees  (p.  169):  ^'Jacopone  Jit  g^mir  la  Vierge  d^soMe,  et 
composa  le  Stabat  Mater  Dolorosa.  La  Uturgie  cathoUque  n'a  ricn  de  plus 
iouchant  que  cctfe  complainte  si  triste,  dont  Ics  strophes  monotones  tomhent  comme 
des  larmes ;  si  douce,  qu^on  y  reconnait  hicn  nne  douleur  toute  divine  et  consolte par 
les  anges  ;  si  sinqjle  enfin  dans  son  latin  popidaire,  que  Jes  fetnmes  et  tes  enfants 
en  comprennent  la  moitie  par  les  mots,  V autre  moitiS  par  le  chant  et  par  le  coeur. 
Cette  auvre  incomparable  suffirait  d  la  gloire  de  Jacopone :  mais  en  meme  tem2)s  que 
le  Stabat  du  Calvaire,  il  avail  voulu  composer  le  Stabat  de  la  creche,  ou  parais- 
sait  la  Vierge  mere  dans  toute  lajoie  de  V enfantement.  II  V^crivit  sur  les  memes 
mesures  et  sur  les  memes  rimes ;  tellement  qu'' on  pourrait  douter  tin  moment  lequel 
fut  le  premier,  da  chant  de  douleur  ou  du  chwit  d^allegrcsse.  Cepcndant,  lapos- 
t&it^afait  nn  choix  entre  ccs  (Zc»,r  j;e/7f.s  semblahles  :  et  tcndis  qu^eUe  conservait 
Vune  avcc  amour,  elle  laissait  Vautre  cnfouie.  Je  crois  le  Stabat  Mater  Spe- 
CIOSA  encore  inedit.''''  He  theu  gives  a  prose  translation  of  a  part  of  the 
Mater  Speciosa,  and  the  Latin  text  from  MS.  no  7785,  f.  109,  of  the 
National  Library  of  Paris. 

^  He  published  the  Life  of  Snso,  the  poetic  mystic  (1829),  an  Anthology  of 
German  and  Spanish  mystic  poetry  (4th  ed.,  1862),  sermons,  pastoral  charges, 
etc.  He  was  born  1798,  and  died  1853.  See  his  correspondence  with  Sailer 
and  Passavant,  1860.  His  life  was  written  by  his  successor,  Bishop  Fijrster, 
Breslau,  1859,  3d  ed.,  Eegensburg,  1878. 

2  Stabat  JIater  Speciosa :  Full  of  beauty  stood  the  Mother.  {By  J.  M.  X.) 
London,  1867,  I  lirst  directed  the  attention  of  the  American  public  to  this 
little  book,  by  an  article  in  "'  Hours  at  Home,"  published  by  Charles  Scribner, 
New  York,  May  1867,  p.  50-58,  but  expressed  dissent  from  his  view  of  the 
authorship  ;  and  this  article  suggested  several  American  translations  by  Dr. 
Coles,  Mr.  Benedict,  Dr.  Johnson,  Dr.  ]\lcKenzie.  Dr.  Neale  was  an  eccentric 
genius,  who  in  the  Middle  Ages  might  have  been  another  Jacopone.  See  an 
interesting  biographical  sketch  by  Bird,  in  the  Schaff-Her^og  "Encyclo- 
paedia," XL,  1610-12. 


222  THE  STABAT  MATER  SPECIOSA. 

AUTHORSHIP. 

The  authorship  is  uncertain.  Ozanam  and  Neale  ascribe  both 
poems  to  Jacopone.  This  is  improbable.  A  poet  would  hardly 
write  a  parody  on  a  poem  of  his  own.  That  man  must  be 
exceedingly  vain  who  would  make  himself  a  model  for  imita- 
tion ;  and  Jacopone  was  so  humble  that  he  forgot  himself  and 
went  to  the  extreme  of  ascetic  self-abnegation.  Ozanam  seems 
to  assign  the  priority  of  composition  to  the  passion  hymn. 

But  Dr.  Neale  infers,  from  the  want  of  finish  and  the  number 
of  imperfect  rhymes,  that  Jacopone  wrote  the  Mater  Speciosa 
first.  In  this  case  the  Mater  Dolorosa  would  be  an  imita- 
tion or  parody ;  but  this  is  absolutely  impossible.  The  Mater 
Dolorosa  is  far  superior,  and  served  as  a  model  for  the  other. 
The  opening  of  the  Stabat  Mater  was  borrowed  from  the  Latin 
Bible  (John  xix.,  25),  with  reference  to  Mary  at  the  Cross,  but 
not  at  the  Cradle.  The  sixth  line,  '^  pertransibit  gladius,^  may 
have  suggested  ^' pertransibit  jubilus/^  but  not  vice  versa.  The 
former  was  prophesied  by  Simeon  (Luke  ii.  35);  the  latter  has 
no  Scripture  foundation.  The  passion  hymn  soon  became  popu- 
lar and  passed  into  public  worship;  but  the  Christmas  hymn 
had  no  such  good  luck.  It  is  the  fame  of  an  original  which 
invites  imitation. 

We  conclude  then  that  the  author  of  the  Mater  Speciosa 
belonged  probably  to  the  Franciscan  Order,  but  lived  and  wrote 
after  Jacopone,  when  the  Mater  Dolorosa  was  already  well 
known  and  widely  used.  This  fact  best  explains  also  the 
enlargement  and  the  supernumerary  lines  of  the  eighth  stanza. 
The  Mater  Speciosa  wants  the  last  finish,  while  the  Mater 
Dolorosa  is  perfect.  The  very  reason  which  Dr.  Neale  urges 
for  the  priority  of  the  former,  proves  its  posteriority. 

MERITS. 
Admitting  the  inferiority  of  the  imitation,  it  is  very  well 
done.  The  correspondence  runs  through  the  two  poems,  except 
the  fifth  and  eleventh  stanzas  of  the  Mater  Speciosa,  which 
are  an  expansion.  They  breathe  the  same  love  to  Christ  and  his 
Mother,  and  the  same  burning  desire  to  become  identified  with 


THE  STABAT  MATER  SPECIOSA.  223 

her  by  sympathy.  They  are  the  same  in  poetic  structure,  and 
excel  alike  in  the  touching  music  of  language  and  soft  cadence 
that  echoes  the  sentiment.  Both  address  tlie  Virgin  Mary  as 
the  mediatrix  between  Christ  and  the  poet.  Both  bear  the 
impress  of  mediaeval  piety  and  of  the  Franciscan  Order  in  the 
period  of  its  enthusiastic  devotion.  The  Mater  Speciosa 
expresses  in  words  what  RaphaeFs,  Corregio's,  and  Murillo's 
Madonnas  express  in  color;  as  the  Mater  Dolorosa  corres- 
ponds to  the  pictorial  representations  of  Mary  at  the  cross.  The 
birth  of  the  Saviour  opens  an  abyss  of  joy,  as  the  crucifixion 
opens  an  abyss  of  grief.  The  writer  of  the  Christmas  hymn 
felt  the  intense  happiness  of  Mary  at  the  cradle  of  her  divine 
Son ;  as  the  waiter  of  the  Good  Friday  hymn  felt  the  intensity 
of  her  agony  at  the  cross.  He  had  the  same  poetic  faculty  of 
expressing,  as  from  intuition  and  sympathy,  the  deep  meaning 
of  the  situation  in  stanzas  of  beauty  and  melody  that  melt  the 
heart  and  start  the  tear.  In  both  situations  of  joy  and  grief, 
Mary  stood  not  only  as  an  individual,  but  as  the  representative 
of  the  whole  Christian  Church,  which  from  year  to  year  wor- 
ships, at  Christmas,  the  Divine  Child  in  Bethlehem  ;  and  on 
Good  Friday,  the  suffering  Saviour  on  Calvary. 

TRANSLATIONS. 
As  in  the  essay  on  the  Mater  Dolorosa,  I  add  the  best  Eng- 
lish and  German  versions  of  the  Mater  Speciosa. 

Dk.  Johx  Masox  Neale,  1867. 
He  omits  the  twelfth  stanza,  which  he  regards  as  a  later  addition. 

1.  Full  of  beauty  stood  the  Mother  *  3.  Who  is  he,  that  sight  who  beareth, 
By  the  Manger,  blest  o'er  other,  Nor  Christ's  Mother's  solace  shareth 

Where  the  Little  One  she  lays  :  In  her  bosom  as  He  lay  : 

For  her  inmost  soul's  elation.  Who  is  he,  that  would  not  render 

In  its  fervid  jubilation,  Tend'rest  love  for  love  so  tender. 

Thrills  with  ecstasy  of  praise.  Love,  with  that  dear  Babe  at  play? 

2.  0  what  glad,  what  rapturous  feeling  4,  For  the  trespass  of  her  nation 
Filled  that  blessed  Mother,  kneeling  She  with  oxen  saw  His  station 

By  the  Sole-Begottcn  One!  Subjected  to  cold  and  woe  :    ^^^ 

How,  her  heart  with  laughter  bound-  Saw  her  sweetest  Offspring's  wailing, 

Wise  men  Him  with  worship  hailing, 


ins. 


She  beheld  the  work  astounding,  In  the  stable,  mean  and  low. 

Saw  His  Birth,  the  glorious  Son. 


224 


THE  STABAT  MATER  SPECIOSA. 


Jesus  lying  in  the  manger, 
Heavenly  armies  sang  the  Stranger, 

In  the  great  joy  bearing  part; 
Stood  the  Old  Man  with  the  Maiden, 
No  words  speaking,  only  laden 

With  this  wonder  in  their  heart. 


Mother,  fount  of  love  still  flowing. 
Let  me,  with  thy  rapture  glowing. 

Learn  to  sympathize  with  thee  : 
Let  me  raise  my  heart's  devotion. 
Up  to  Christ  with  pure  emotion. 

That  accepted  I  may  be. 


7.  Mother,  let  me  win  this  blessing, 
Let  His  sorrow's  deep  impressing 
In  my  heart  engraved  remain  : 
Since  thy  Son,  from  heaven  descend- 
ing, 
Deigned  to  bear  the  manger's  tending, 
0  divide  with  me  His  pain. 


10. 


Keep  my  heart  its  gladness  bringing, 
To  my  Jesus  ever  clinging 

Long  as  this  my  life  shall  last; 
Love  like  that  thine  own  love,  give  it. 
On  my  little  Child  to  rivet. 

Till  this  exile  shall  be  past. 
Let  me  share  thine  own  affliction ; 
Let  me  suffer  no  rejection 

Of  my  purpose  fixed  and  fast. 

Virgin,  peerless  of  condition, 
Be  not  wroth  with  my  petition. 

Let  me  clasp  thy  little  Son  : 
Let  me  bear  that  Child  so  glorious. 
Him,  whose  Birth,   o'er  Death   vic- 
torious, 

Will'd  that  Life  for  man  was  won. 

Let  me,  satiate  with  my  pleasure. 
Feel  the  rapture  of  thy  Treasure 

Leaping  for  that  joy  intense  : 
That,  inflam'd  by  such  communion, 
Through  the  marvel  of  that  union 

I  may  thrill  in  every  sense. 


11.  All  that  love  this  stable  truly, 

And  the  shepherds  watching  duly, 

Tarry  there  the  live-long  night: 
Pray,  that  by  thy  Son's  dear  merit, 
His  elected  may  inherit 

Their  own  country's  endless  light. 


Erastus  C.  Benedict,  Esq.,  New  York. 
From  "  Tlie  Hymns  of  Hildebert  and  other  Mediseval  Hymns  with  translations, 
N.  York,  1867. 

1.  Beautiful,  his  Mother,  standing 


Near  the  stall — her  soul  expanding 
Saw  her  new-born  lying  there — 
In  her  soul,  new  joy  created. 
And  with  holy  love  elated. 
Rapture  glorifying  her. 


She,  her  God-begotten  greeting. 
Felt  her  spotless  bosom  beating, 

With  a  new  festivity — 
Holy  joy,  her  bosom  warming — 
lladiiint  smiles  her  face  conforming 

At  her  Son's  nativity. 


3.  Who  could  fail  to  see  with  pleasure, 
Christ's    dear    Mother,  without   mea- 
sure 

Such  a  joy  expressing  there — 
Thus  a  mother's  care  beguiling, 
Thus  beside  the  manger  smiling. 

Her  dear  Son  caressing  there  ? 

4.  For  the  trespass  of  his  nation, 
Suffering  now  humiliation, 

Chilling  with  the  cattle  there — 
Wise  men  knelt  where  He  was  lying. 
Still  she  saw  her  dear  one  crying, 

In  a  cheerless  tavern  there. 


THE  STABAT  MATER  SPECIOSA. 


225 


5.  Saviour,  cradled  in  a  manger  ! 
Angels  hail  the  heavenly  stranger, 

In  their  great  felicity; 
Virgin  and  her  husband  gazing 
Speechless,  saw  the  sight,  amazing. 
Of  so  great  a  mystery. 


9.  Virgin,  first  in  virgin  beauty  ! 
Let  me  share  thy  love  and  duty — 

Clasping  with  fidelity 
That  dear  child,  who  for  us  liveth, 
By  his  birth,  for  death,  who  giveth 

Life  and  immortality. 


Fount  of  love,  beyond  concealing  ! 
May  the  love  which  thou  art  feeling. 

Fill  my  heart,  unceasingly — 
Let  my  heart  like  thine  be  glowing — 
Holy  love  of  Jesus  knowing. 

And  with  thee,  in  sympathy. 


10.  "With  thee,  let  me,  thrilled  with  plea- 
sure. 
Feel  his  love,  beyond  all  measure. 

In  a  sacred  dance  with  thee — 
With  a  holy  zeal  excited, 
Every  ravished  sense  delighted 
In  a  holy  trance  with  thee. 


7.  Holy  Mother,  for  him  caring. 
Let  the  ills  thy  Son  is  bearing, 

Touch  my  heart,  indelibly — 
Of  thy  Son,  from  Heaven  descended, 
In  a  stable,  born  and  tended. 

Share  with  me  the  pcnaltj^ 


11.  All  who  love  this  sacred  manger, 
Every  watching  shepherd  stranger. 

All,  at  night,  who  come  with  him — 
By  thy  Son's  dear  intercession, 
May  his  chosen  take  possession 

Of  his  heavenly  home  with  him. 


8.  "With  thee,  all  thy  love  dividing. 
Be  my  soul  in  Christ  abiding, 

While  this  life  enchaineth  me. 
May  thy  love,  my  bosom  warming, 
Make  my  soul  to  his  conforming, 

"While  exile  detaineth  me. 
Let  my  love  with  thine  still  blending, 
Be  for  Jesus  never  ending. 

Nothing  e'er  restraining  me. 


12.  By  thy  holy  Son  attended— 
By  the  word  of  God  defended — 
By  his  grace  forgiving  me-- 
"When  my  mortal  frame  is  perished. 
May  my  soul  above  be  cherished — 
Thy  dear  Son  receiving  me. 


From 


Abeah.vm  Coles,  m.d.,  ll.d. 
Stabat  Mater  Speciosa.    Hymn  of  the  Joys  of  Mary.''''    New  York,  1868. 


1.  Stood  the  fair  delighted  Mother 
By  the  hay,  where  like  no  other, 

Lay  her  little  Infant  Boy ; — 
Through  whose  soul-rejoicing,  yearn- 
ing 
And  with  love  maternal  burning — 
Thrilling  passed  the  lyric  joy. 


3.  "Who  is  he  would  joy  not  greatly 
If  he  saw  Christ's  Mother,  lately 

"With  such  solace  happy  made? 
Who  could  not  be  glad  in  common 
Contemplating  that  dear  woman 

Playing  with  her  smiling  Babe  ? 


2.  0,  what  grace  to  her  allotted. 
Blessed  Mother  and  unspotted. 

Of  the  Sole-Bcgotton  One  I 
Who  rejoiced,  and  laughed  sweet 

laughter 
As  she  gazed  exulting,  after 
Birth  of  her  Illustrious  Son. 
15 


4.  For  his  people's  sins  providing, 
Christ  she  saw  with  cattle  biding. 

And  exposed  to  winter  keen. 
Saw  her  darling  oS'spring,  crying 
As  an  infant,  worshipped,  lying 

In  a  lodging  vile  and  mean. 


226 


THE  STABAT  MATER  SPECIOSA. 


O'er  that  scene  surpassing  fable, 
Sing  they  Christ  born  in  a  stable, 

Heavenly  hosts,  with  joy  immense; 
Old  men  stood  with  maidens  gazing 
Speechless  at  that  sight  amazing. 

In  astonishment  intense. 


Be  not  bitter  to  my  pleading, 
Let  me  take  the  Little  One, 
Bear  the  Babe,  His  sweet  smile  wooing, 
Who,  in  birtti  wrought  death  undoing. 
Giving  life  when  His  begun  ! 


Make  me,  Mother,  fount  of  loving, 
Feel  like  force  of  ardor  moving. 

That  I  thus  may  feel  with  thee ! 
Let  my  heart  with  love  be  burning, 
That  in  Christ  my  God  discerning 

I  to  Him  may  pleasing  be ! 


10.  Fill  me  with  thy  child's  caresses. 
Make  me  drunk  with  joy's  excesses. 

In  thy  leaping  transport  share ; 
Fired  and  kindled,  struck  with  won- 
der, 
Let  each  sense  the  power  be  under 
Of  such  commerce  sweet  and  rare. 


7.  Do  this,  Mother,  be  entreated  ! 
Fix  His  after  wounds,  repeated 

Well  in  my  heart  crucified  ! 
Of  thy  Son  the  Heavenly  Stranger, 
Deigning  birth  now  in  a  manger, 

Sufferinors  with  me  divide. 


Make  me  truly  share  thy  pleasure 
Cleave  to  Jesus  and  Him  treasure, 

While  I  live,  and  all  the  Avhile 
Work  in  me  thy  love's  completeness, 
Treat  me  with  thy  Sweet  One's  sweet- 
ness 

To  the  end  of  my  exile ! 


11.  All  the  stable  loving,  blending 
With  the  watching  shepherds,  spend- 
ing 

All  the  night,  compose  one  band. 
Pray,  through  strength  of  His  deserv- 
ing 
His  elect,  with  course  unswerving 

May  attain  the  heavenly  land. 

12.  Let  me  by  thy  Son  be  warded. 
By  the  word  of  God  be  guarded, 

Kept  by  grace,  refused  to  none. 
When  my  body  death  hath  riven, 
Grant  that  to  my  soul  be  given 

Joyful  vision  of  thy  Son  ! 


Rev.  Fkanklin  Johnson,  d.d.,  Cambridge,  Mass. 

From  "  The  Stabat  3Iater  Speciosa  and  the  Stabat  Mater  Dolorosa;  translated  by 

Franklin  Johnson.' '    Boston,  1886. 


Stood  the  Mother  in  her  beauty, 
Rapt  with  thoughts  of  love  and  duty. 
Near  the  stall  where  lay  her  child  ; 
And  her  soul,  forgetting  sadness. 
Glowed  with  light  of  new-born  glad- 
ness. 
Filled  and  thrilled   with   transport 
mild. 


Who  his  heart's  delight  could  smother. 
And  regard  unmoved  Christ's  mother 

Playing  with  her  baby  boy  ? 
Who  could  all  her  peerless  treasure 
Of  celestial  solace  measure. 

Void  of  sympathetic  joy  ? 


Of  all  women  has  none  other 
Joyed  with  her,  the  sinless  mother 

Of  God's  sole  begotten  Son, 
As  with  laughter  and  elation 
She  beheld  the  incarnation 

Of  the  High  and  Holy  One. 


Then,  again,  she  saw  with  sighing 
Christ  for  our  offences  lying 

Cold  among  the  beasts  of  earth. 
Worshipped,  yet  to  man  a  stranger, 
AYccping  in  that  meanest  manger 

Where  she  laid  Him  at  His  birth. 


THE  STABAT  MATER  SPECIOSA. 


227 


6.  On  that  babe  thus  cradled  lowly- 
Gazed  all  heavenly  spirits  holy, 

Singing  loud  His  worthy  praise, 
While,  with  rapture  overladen, 
Joseph  and  the  mother-maiden 

Could  not  speak  for  sweet  amaze. 


Virgin,  virgins  all  excelling. 
Pardon  words  from  love  outwelling: 
I  would  seize  thy  babe  from  thee, 
And  would  bear,  0  sweet  abduction  ! 
llim  whose  birth  was  death's  destruc- 
tion, 
Him  whose  death  brought  life  to 
me. 


6.  Mother,  fount  of  love's  devotion, 
Let  me  feel  thy  deep  emotion. 

Let  me  with  thy  passion  glow. 
Let  me  thine  affection  borrow 
For  thy  Son  in  joy  and  sorrow. 

That  His  blessing  I  mav  know. 


10.  0  for  Christ  to  satiation 

Pure  and  high  intoxication  ! 

0  to  dance  with  joy  divine  ! 
0  for  fire  my  soul  possessing 
And  my  flesh  and  sense  repressing, 

Since  such  fellowship  is  mine ! 


7.  Holy  maid,  the  benediction 
Of  His  birth  to  sore  affliction 

Paint  upon  mine  inmost  heart; 
With  thy  Son,  from  heaven  descended 
To  the  manger,  poor,  unfriended 

May  I  ever  have  a  part. 

8.  Grant  as  well  thy  joy  o'erflowing, 
While  I  cleave  to  Christ  with  growing 

Ardor  till  my  life  is  spent; 
With  thy  fervor  stir  and  cheer  me ; 
Let  thy  little  child  be  near  me 

Through  this  world  of  banishment. 


11.  Ye  who  love  this  lowly  stable. 
With  the  shepherds  through  the  sable 

Night  keep  watch,  a  sleepless  band. 
Mother,  by  thy  Son's  dear  merit 
Pray  that  His  elect  inherit 

Of  his  grace  their  fatherland. 

12.  Let  thy  Son  His  blessing  send  me ; 

Let  that  Word  of  God  defend  me; 

Keep  me  in  thy  tender  love ; 
When  this  mortal  flesh  shall  perish, 
Evermore  my  spirit  cherish 

In  thy  Paradise  above. 


Rev.  W.  S.  McKexzte,  d.d.,  Boston. 

The  esteemed  author  prepared  two  versions,  one  in  double  rhyme,  first 
published  in  "  The  Beacon,''^  Boston,  May  14th,  1887,  and  another  in  single 
rhyme,  published  in  the  same  paper,  June,  1887.  He  placed  both,  with  some 
corrections,  at  my  disposal. 

1.  Stood  the  mother,  decked  with  beauty. 
Joying  in  maternal  duty. 

At  the  crib  where  lay  her  Boy  : 
Gladness  all  her  heart  was  filling  ! 
Rapture  was  her  bosom  thrilling  ! 

Her  whole  being  throbbed  with  joy  ! 

2.  0  what  beatific  feeling 
Stirred  that  spotless  mother,  kneeling 

Near  her  sole  begotten  One! 
With  what  sweet  exhilaration, 
With  what  joy  and  jubilation. 

Did  she  greet  that  high-born  Son  ! 


3.  AYho  would  curb  his  own  emotion, 
Could  he  see  the  fond  devotion 

Gushing    from    Christ's    mother's 
breast  ? 
Who  would  check  her  exultations. 
Or  would  hush  her  exclamations 

O'er  the  Babe  she  there  caressed  ? 

4.  Yet  for  his  degraded  nation 
She  saw  Christ's  humiliation 

In  a  stable  bare  and  cold  ; 
Saw  her  Child  with  cattle  lying. 
Worshipped,  yet  an  Infant  crying 

In  a  chill  and  cheerless  fold. 


228 


THE  STABAT  MATER  SPECIOSA. 


5.  Angels  hailed  the  new-born  Stranger, 
Cradled  in  the  narrow  manger, 

With  loud  anthems  from  the  skies : 
Joseph  abd  the  maiden  mother, 
Speechless,  gazed  each  at  the  other. 
Overwhelmed  with  their  surprise. 


9.  Virgin,  0  thou  Virgin  peerless. 
Scorn  me  not,  if  rash  and  fearless, 

I  would  wrest  thy  Babe  from  thee: 
0  in  my  arms  let  him  repose. 
Whose  birth  the  tyrant  did  depose, 

And  who  vanquished  death  for  me. 


6.  Mother,  fount  of  love's  pure  yearning, 
AVith  thy  passion  in  me  burning, 

Let  me  share  thy  bliss  with  thee : 
May  I  glow  with  thy  emotion. 
Love  thy  Christ  with  thy  devotion, 

Serve  Him  with  thy  loyalty. 


10.  I  would  revel  in  thy  pleasure  ! 

Drink  it  with  no  stinted  measure  ! 

I  would  feast  and  dance  with  thee ! 
Thus  excited  and  elated, 
My  whole  soul  intoxicated. 

Firm  our  fellowship  will  be  ! 


7.  Holy  Mother,  let  me  languish, 
Feeling  all  thy  Baby's  anguish 

Graven  on  my  inmost  heart : 
With  thy  Child,  who  condescended 
In  a  stable  to  be  tended. 

Meekly  I  would  bear  a  part. 


11.  Let  all  those  who  love  the  manger, 
And  like  shepherds  greet  the  Stranger, 
Watching  through  the  silent  night, 
By  thy  Son's  own  intercessions 
Gain  the  pledged  and   jjure  posses- 
sions 
In  the  land  of  life  and  light. 


8.  Nought  on  earth  my  heart  shall  sever 
From  thy  Jesus ;  to  Him  ever 

I  will  cleave  till  life  is  past  : 
May  the  ardor  thou  art  showing, 
As  in  thee  in  me  be  glowing, 

Holding  me  forever  fast. 
If  thy  fervor  shall  but  bind  me 
To  the  Boy,  then  thou  shalt  find  me 

Ever — faithful  to  the  last. 


12.  May  his  loving  care  be  o'er  me ; 
May  the  Son  of  God  restore  me  ; 

May  his  grace  my  guerdo;a  be  : 
And  when  earthly  bonds  are  riven, 
May  it  then  to  me  bo  given 

That  thine  Infant  I  may  see. 


Rev.  W.  S.  McKenzie. 


How  comely  in  her  motherhood 
The  virgin  near  the  manger  stood. 

Where  was  laid  her  infant  boy; 
Seraphic  bliss  her  bosom  filled. 
Her     heart    with     sweetest     rapture 
thrilled, 

Her  whole  being  throbbed  with  joy. 


3.  And  who  would  not  her  rapture  share. 
Could    he    but    see    Christ's    mother 
there ; 
Honored  with  a  Babe  so  blest  ? 
Who  from  rejoicing  could  refrain. 
Or  would  that  mother's  joy  restrain 
O'er  the  Infant  she  caressed  ? 


There,  all  enraptured  and  amazed. 
The  sinless  mother  stood,  and  gazed 

At  her  sole  begotten  One  ! 
With  gladness  and  with  holy  mirth 
Her  soul  exulted  o'er  the  birth 

Of  her  first-burn,  peerless  Son  ! 


'Twas  in  His  sinful  nation's  stead 
Her  Christ  was  laid  where  beasts  are 
fed. 

In  a  manger  bare  and  cold : 
She  saw  her  Child,  that  Holy  Son, 
Whom  Magi  blessed,  a  weeping  One 

In  a  cheerless  cattle-fold. 


THE  STABAT  MATER  SPECIOSA. 


229 


5.  "When  Christ,  their  King,  was  born  on 
earth, 
Angelic  h(i?t?  prorhnnieJ  His  birth 
With  loud  anthems  in  the  skies; 
While  Joseph  and  the  Maiden  mused 
In  silence,  speechless,  and  confused. 
Stupefied  with  their  surprise. 


Thou  spotless,  noblest  virgin  born  ! 
Do  not,  I  beg,  my  boldness  scorn, 

If  I  would  seize   thy  Babe   from 
thee  : 
Let  me  breathe  thine  Infant's  breath 
AVho  by  Ilis  birth  did  vanquish  death, 

And  whose  death  brought  life  to  me. 


).  Mother,  fount  whence  love  doth  flow. 
With  thy  sweet  passion  may  I  glow, 

Sharing  all  thy  jny  with  thee  : 
My  heart  would  burn  with  zeal  like 

thine. 
With  love  to  Christ,  thy  Son  Divine, 
And  with  thy  true  loyalty. 


10.  0  may  my  soul  like  thine  be  thrilled! 
With  fervor  for  thy  Child  be  filled  ! 

Let  me  throb  with  love  divine  ! 
If  thus  inflamed  with  love's  pure  fire, 
Then  will  my  heart  henceforth  aspire 
To  a  fellowship  with  thine. 


7.  0  holy  virgin,  hear  my  plea. 

Thine  Infant's  sorrows  lay  on  me. 

Grave  them  on  my  inmost  heart : 
With  Him  who  laid  His  glory  by. 
And  in  a  stable  deigned  to  lie, 

I  would  bear  some  humble  part. 


11.  For  all  who  love  thy  manger  Boy, 
And  like  the  shepherds  in  their  joy. 

Keep  a  watch  through  all  the  night, 
0  mother,  by  Christ's  merits  plead. 
That  they  may  be  His  chosen  seed. 

In  the  land  of  life  and  light. 


And  may  my  soul  with  thine  rejoice; 
Thy  little  Jesus  be  my  choice; 

Long  as  life  on  earth  shall  last ; 
With  thy  pure  ardor  I  would  burn ; 
To  thy  dear   Child   my   heart   would 
turn. 

Till  my  exile  shall  be  past : 
If  that  deep  fervor  thou  hast  shown 
To  thy  sweet  Babe,  by  me  be  known, 

It  will  bind  me  firm  and  fast. 


12.  And  may  thy  Child  be  my  defense; 
Thy  Son  Divine  my  recompense; 

And  through  life  my  guerdon  be. 
When  death  my  fleshly  frame  shall 

smite, 
May  I  in  heaven's  purer  light 
Him  with  clearer  vision  see. 


GERMAN  TRAXSLATIOXS. 


1.  An  der  Ivrippe  stand  die  hohe 
Mutter,  die  so  selig  frohe, 

Wo  das  Kindlein  lag  auf  Streu. 
Und  durch  ihre  freudetrunk'ne 
Ganz  in  Andachtsglut  versunk'ne 

Seele,  drang  ein  Jubelschrei. 


Wessen  Herz  nicht  freudig  gliihet 
Wenn  er  Christi  Mutter  siehet 

In  so  hohem  Wonnetrost  ? 
Wer  wohl  konnte  ohn'  EntzUcken 
Christi  Mutter  hier  erblicken, 

Wie  ihr  Kindlein  sie  liebkost? 


2.  Welches  freud'ge,  sel'ge  Seherzen 
Spielt  im  unbefleckten  Ilerzen 

Dieser  Jungfrau — Mutter  froh'n 
Seel  und  Sinne  jubelnd  lachten 
Und  frohlockten  im  Betrachten, 

Dies  ihr  Kind  sei  Gottes  Sohn. 


Wegen  seines  Yolkes  Siinden 
Muss  sie  zwischen  Thranen  finden 

Christum  frosterstarrt  auf  Stroh; 
Sehen  ihren  sUssen  Knaben 
Winseln  und  Anbetung  haben 

In  dem  Stalle  kalt  und  roh. 


230 


THE  STABAT  MATER  SPECIOSA. 


5.  Und  clem  Kindlein  in  der  Krippe 
Singt  der  Himmelschaaren  Sippe 

Ein  unendlich  Jubellied. 
TJnd  der  Jungfrau  und  dem  Greisen 
Fehlen  Worte,  um  zu  wcisen, 

Was  ihr  trauernd  Herz  hier  sieht. 


Lass  micli  seine  Freud'  auch  theilen, 
Bel  dem  Jesulein  verweilcn 

Meines  Lebens  Tage  all ! 
Lass  mich  dich  stets  briinstiggriissen, 
Lass  des  Kindleins  mich  geniessen 

Hier  in  diesem  Jammerthal. 
0  mach'  allgemein  dies  Sehnen, 
Und  lass  niemals  mich  entwohncn 

Von  so  heil'gem  Sehnsuchtsstrahl. 


Eja  Mutter,  Quell  der  Liebe, 
Dass  auch  ich  der  Inbrust  Triebe 

Mit  dir  fuhle,  fleh  ich,  mach  ! 
Lass  mein  Ilerz  in  Liebesgluten 
Gegen  meinen  Gott  hinfluten, 

Dass  ich  Ihm  gefallen  mag  ! 


9.  Jungfrau  aller  Jungfrau'n,  hehre, 
Nicht  dein  Kindlein  mir  verwehre, 
Lass   mich's    an   mich    ziehn   mit 
Macht; 
Lass  das  schone  Kind  mich  wiegcn, 
Das  den  Tod  kam  zu  besiegen, 
Und  das  Loben  wiederbracht'. 


7.  Heirge  Mutter,  das  bewirke; 
Prage  in  mein  Ilerz,  und  wirke 

Tief  ihm  Liebeswunden  ein; 
Mit  dem  Kind,  dem  Himmelssohne, 
Der  auf  Stroh  liegt  mir  zum  Lohne, 

Lass  mich  theilen  alle  Pein. 


10.  Lass  an  ihm  mit  dir  mich  letzen, 
Mich  berauschen  im  Ergotzen, 

Jubeln  in  der  Wonne  Tanz  ! 
Glutcntflammet  von  der  Minne 
Schwinden  staunend  mir  die  Pinnc 

Ob  solches  Verkehres  Glanz  ! 


11.  Lass  vom  Kindlein  mich  bewachen, 
Gottes  "Wort  mich  riistig  machen, 

Test  mich  in  der  Gnade  stehn. 
Und  wenn  einst  der  Leib  verwesct. 
Lass  die  Seele  dann,  erlciset, 

Deines  Sohnes  Antlitz  sehn  I 


De.   G.  a.    K5XIGSFELD   (1865). 


From  the  second  series  of  his 
alter.' ^     Bonn,  1865. 


Latein.  Hymncn  und  Gesdnr/e  aus  dem  3Iiitel- 


An  der  Krippe  stand  die  hohe 
Gottesmutter,  seelenfrohe. 

Wo  Er  lag,  der  kleino  Sohn  ; 
Durch  das  Herz,  von  Lust  durchglUhet 
Und  durchbebet  wonnig  ziehet 

Ihr  ein  heller  Jubelton. 


3.  Wer  sollt'  da  nicht  freudvoll  stehen, 
Wenn  die  Mutter  er  geselien 

In  so  hohen  Trostes  Lu.-^t  ? 
Wer  nicht  mit  ihr  Wonne  f  llhlen, 
Sieht  er  Christi  Mutter  spielen 

Mit  dem  Sohne  an  der  Brust  ? 


2.  Wie  war  hochbegliickt  die  Eine, 
Die  uns  makellos  und  reino 

Gab  den  Eingeborenen; 
Wie  sic  jauchzte,  wie  sie  scherzte, 
Ihn  betrachtcnd  koscnd  herzte 

Ihren  Auserkorencn. 


FUr  der  Mcnschheit  S linden  alle 
Sieht  sie  Josum  in  dem  Stalle 

Zwischcn  Thicrcn,  frostcrstnrrt  j 
Sieht  sie  ihren  holdcn  Klcincn 
Angcbetct  winsehid  weincn, 

Eingebettet  rauh  und  hart. 


THE   STABAT  MATER  SPECIOSA. 


231 


5.  Docb  dcm  Kind  im  Stalle  tonen 
Hell  iind  laut  von  Edcns  Sohnen 

Jubelliedcr  ohne  Zahl ; 
Und  der  Jungfrau  und  dera  Greiso 
Fehlen  Worte,  fehlt  die  Weise 

Fiir  ihr  Staunen  allzumal. 


Lass  mich  inn'go  Lust  empfinden, 
Hiingend  an  dcm  Jesukindc, 

Durch  mein  ganzes  Lebcn  lang 
In  inir  dcine  Liebe  fliessen 
Und  des  Kindloins  ich  genicssen 

Hier  auf  lueinem  Erdengang. 


Darum  Mutter,  Quell  der  Liebe, 
Gib,  dass  mit  dir  icli  die  Triebo 

FUhlc  deiner  inn'gen  Brunst; 
Dass  in  meinem  Ilerzen  wohne 
Heisse  Lieb'  zu  deinem  Sohne, 

Midi  erfreue  seine  Gunst. 


Jungfrau,  alien  vorgezogen, 
Bleibe  stets  auch  niir  gewogen. 

Lass  mir  dieses  Knablein  lieb; 
Lass  das  lieblicbe  mich  wiegen, 
Das  den  Tod  kam  zu  besiegcn, 

Dass  mir  nur  das  Leben  blieb. 


Heil'gc  Mutter,  das  erwage, 
Deine  Liebeswunden  prage 

Tief  in  meinem  Ilerzen  ein ; 
Dass  mit  deinem  Ilimmelssprossen, 
Jetzt  von  naektem  Stroh  umschlosser 

Auch  ich  theile  jede  Pein. 


10.  Wonne  lass  mich  mit  dir  tauschen. 
In  dem  Sohne  mich  berauschen, 

Hlipfen  auf  in  Wonn'  und  Lust; 
Glutentflammet,  liebestrunken 
Schweigt,    im    Anblick     ganz    ver- 
sunken, 
Air  mein  Sinnen  in  der  Brust. 


Gib,  durch  deinen  Sohn  mich  schiitz- 

end 
Und  auf  Gottes  Wort  mich  stiitzend, 

Dass  stets  seine  Gunst  mich  freut ; 
Und  wenn  Staub  der  Leib  geworden, 
OeflTne  du  der  Seele  dorten 

Deines  Sohnes  Herrlichkeit! 


ST.  BEKNAED  AS  A  HYMNIST. 

St.  Bernard,  abbot  of  Clairvaux  (1091-1153),  was  one  of  the 
greatest  and  best  men  in  the  Middle  Ages,  and  the  central  figure 
in  the  history  of  Europe  during  the  second  quarter  of  the  twelfth 
century.  He  belongs  to  those  rare  personalities  who  influenced 
the  Church  and  the  world  in  every  important  sphere  of  life. 
He  is  prominent  in  the  history  of  monasticism,  of  theology,  of 
the  hierarchy,  of  the  Crusades,  of  pulpit  eloquence  and  public 
worship.  He  was  the  founder  of  the  Cistercian  convent  in  the 
wild  and  barren  gorge  of  Clairvaux  [Clara  ValUs),  and  a  model 
saint,  almost  worshiped  by  his  contemporaries  and  canonized 
by  Alexander  III.  in  1173,  in  less  than  twenty  years  after  his 
death.  He  healed  the  papal  schism  which  broke  out  after  the 
death  of  Honorius  II.,  secured  by  his  eloquence  and  moral 
weight  the  recognition  of  Innocent  II.,  and  was  the  spiritual 
counselor  of  kings  and  popes.  He  defended  orthodox  mysticism 
and  the  theology  of  the  heart  against  speculative  rationalism  and 
the  theology  of  the  intellect  in  the  contest  with  Peter  Abelard. 
He  stirred  up  the  second  Crusade  (in  1146)  by  rousing  the  people 
of  France  and  Germany  to  the  pitch  of  enthusiasm  for  the  con- 
quest of  the  Holy  Land,  but  was  doomed  to  bitter  disappoint- 
ment by  the  disastrous  failure  of  the  expedition.  His  last  work 
was  to  make  peace  between  the  citizens  of  Metz  and  the  surround- 
ing nobility. 

He  was  endowed  with  rare  faculties  of  mind  and  heart,  a 
sympathetic  temper,  a  lively  imagination,  and  the  power  of 
personal  magnetism.  Love  and  humility  were  the  crowning 
traits  of  his  character.  He  is  called  the  honey-flowing  doctor 
(Doctor  meUifluus),  He  converted  thousands  by  his  persuasive 
eloquence  and  pious  example,  and  cured  many  by  his  prayers. 
There  is  no  spotless  saint  in  this  world,  but  Bernard  came  near 
the  ideal  of  Christian  holiness,  and  claimed  no  merit,  but  gave 
all  the  glory  to  the  free  grace  of  God  in  Christ.  His  con- 
232 


ST.  BERNARD  AS  A  HYMNIST.  233 

temporaries  regarded  him  as  a  worker  of  miracles,  and  ascribed 
a  healing  power  to  his  dead  bones.  One  of  his  miracles  reported 
by  tradition  has  a  touch  of  humor,  and  teaches  a  lesson  how  we 
may  utilize  even  the  evil  spirit,  and  turn  an  obstacle  into  a 
vehicle.  When  crossing  the  Alps  for  a  third  time  in  1137  in 
the  interest  of  the  unity  and  peace  of  the  Church,  the  devil  broke 
the  wheel  of  his  carriage  and  tried  to  pitch  him  over  a  precipice; 
but  the  saint  quietly  ordered  the  enemy  to  become  a  wheel  himself 
and  to  carry  him  to  Italy. 

St.  Bernard  occupies  an  honorable  place  among  the  hymnists 
of  the  Church.  Several  religious  poems  bear  his  name  and  are 
printed  among  his  works. ^  The  best  are,  a  Jesus  hymn  {Jubilus 
rhythmicus  de  Nomine  Jesu),  and  seven  Passion  hymns  (Rhythmica 
Oratio  ad  unum  quodlihet  membrorum  Christi  patientis  et  a  Cruce 
pendentis).'^ 

1  select  the  Jesus  hymn  and  two  of  his  Passion  hymns. 

JESU  DULCIS  :\IEMORIA. 

This  may  well  be  called  the  sweetest  and  most  evangelical 
hymn  of  the  Middle  Ages  ;  as  the  Dies  Ir.e  is  the  grandest, 
and  the  Stabat  Mater  the  tenderest.  It  breathes  the  deepest 
love  to  Christ,  as  the  fountain  of  all  peace  and  comfort,  and  the 
sum  of  all  that  is  pure  and  lovely.  It  is  eminently  characteristic 
of  the  glowing  piety  and  "subjective  loveliness^'  of  St.  Bernard. 
It  has  inspired  a  number  of  the  best  Jesus  hymns  in  other 
languages. 

The  poem  has  no  less  than  48  quatrains  or  192  lines  in  the 
Benedictine  edition  of  Bernard's  Works.  Fabricius  and  Wacker- 
nagel  give  from  other  MSS.  even   50  quatrains  or  200  lines.  ^ 

^  In  the  Benedictine  edition  of  Mabillon,  1719,  vol.  ii.,  and  in  Migne's 
reprint,  Patrologia,  Tom.  CLXXXiv.  (Paris,  1854),  fol.  1307-1330.  I  quote 
from  Migne.  Comp.  also  Mone,  Led.  Ilymnen  ties  Jlittcl alters,  i.,  pp.  119,  162 
sqq.,  172  sqq.;  298,  330.  Trenth  gives  the  Jesus  hymn,  and  the  first  and 
the  last  of  the  Passion  hymns. 

2  The  best  monographs  on  St.  Bernard  are  Neander's  Der  heil.  Bernharcl  und 
sein  Zeitalter  (Berlin,  1813  ;  3d.  ed.  1865  ;  Euglish  translation  by  Matilda 
Wrench,  London,  1868),  and  J.  C.  Morison's  The  Life  and  Times  of  Saint 
Bernard  (new  ed.,  London,  1868),  but  both  ignore  his  poetry. 

3  Phil.  Wackernagel,  Das  Deutsche  Kirchenlied  (Leipzig,  1864  sqq.,  vol.  i., 
117-120).    He  adds  from  Fabricius  two  additional  quatrains  of  inferior  merit. 


234 


ST.  BERNARD  AS  A  HYMNIST. 


It  was  probably  enlarged  by  transcribers,  to  serve  as  a  rosary 
hymn.  In  this  form  it  is  repetitious,  monotonous,  and  wanting 
in  progress.  It  gains  decidedly  by  abridgment.  The  MSS. 
give  it  in  several  sections  according  to  the  hours  of  daily  devo- 
tion. The  Roman  Breviary  retains  only  15  quatrains  and  divides 
them  into  three  distinct  hymns  (as  Caswall  does  in  his  transla- 
tion). Archbishop  Trench  likewise  selects  15  quatrains  of  the 
original.^  All  the  German  and  English  versions  and  reproduc- 
tions are  abridgments. ^ 


From  the  Benedictine  Edition  of  St.  Bernard'' s  Worlcs. 


Jesu  dulcis  memoria, 
Dans  vera  cordi  gaudia  : 
Sed  super  mel  et  omnia 
Ejus  dulcis  praesentia. 


6.  Jesum  quaeram  in  lectulo, 
Clauso  cordis  cubiculo : 
Privatim  et  in  publico 
Quseram  amore  sedulo. 


2.  Nil  canitur  suavius, 
Nil  auditur  jucundius, 
Nil  cogitatur  dulcius, 
Quam  Jesus  Dei  Filius. 


7.  Cum  Maria  diluculo 

Jesum  quaeram  in  tumuio, 
Clamore  cordis  querulo, 
Mente  quaeram,  non  oculo. 


3.  Jesus,  spes  pcenitentibus, 
Quam  pius  es  petentibus, 
Quam  bonus  te  quaerentibus  ! 
Sed  quid  invenientibus ! 


8.  Tumbam  perfundam  fletibus 
Locum  replens  gemitibus : 
Jesu  provolvar  pedibus, 
Strictis  haerens  amplexibus. 


4.  Jesu,  dulcedo  cordium  ! 
Fons  veri,  lumen  mentium, 
Excedens  omne  gaudium, 
Et  omne  desiderium. 


9.  Jesu,  rex  admirabilis, 
Et  triumphator  nobilis, 
Dulcedo  ineffabilis, 
Totus  desirabilis. 


Nee  lingua  valet  dicere. 
Nee  littera  exprimere ; 
Expertus  potest  credere, 
Quid  sit  Jesum  diligere. 


10.  Mane  nobiscum,  Domine, 
Et  nos  illustra  lumine, 
Pulsa  mentis  caligine, 
Mundum  replens  dulcedine. 


^  Sacred  Latin  Poetry,  3d.  ed.,  London,  1874,  pp.  251-253.  He  selects 
vers.  1-5,  20-23,  27,  44,  45,  47  and  48,  and  says  in  a  note  :  "  Where  all  was 
beautiful,  the  task  of  selection  was  a  hard  one  ;  but  only  so  could  the  poem 
have  found  place  in  this  volume  ;  while  there  is  gain  as  well  as  loss  in  pre- 
senting it  in  this  briefer  form." 

2  There  are  German  translations  or  free  reproductions  by  IMiiller,  Fr.  von 
Meyer,  Zinzendorf,  Sailer,  Konigsfeld,  etc.  See  ScliatPs  Deutsches  Gcsany- 
huch,  No.  160  ;  and  Christ  in  Song,  pp.  318-322  (London  ed.). 


ST.  BERNARD   AS   A   HYMNIST. 


235 


11.  Quando  cor  nostrum  visitas, 
Tunc  lucet  ei  Veritas, 
Mundi  vilescit  vaniias, 

Et  intus  fervet  charitas. 

12.  Amor  Jesu  dulcissimus 
Et  vere  suavissimus, 
Plus  millies  gratissimus, 
Quam  dicere  sufficimus. 

13.  Hoc  probat  ejus  passio, 
Hoc  sanguinis  effusio, 
Per  quam  nobis  redemptio 
Datur,  et  Dei  visio. 

14.  Jesum  omnes  agnoscite, 
Jesum  ardenter  quaerite, 
Amorem  ejus  poscite  ; 
Quaerendo  inardescite. 

15.  Sic  amantem  diligite, 
Amoris  vicem  reddite, 
In  hunc  odorem  currite, 
Et  vota  votis  reddite. 

16.  Jesus,  auctor  clementise, 
Totius  spes  laetitiae, 
Dulcoris  fons  et  gratias, 
Verae  cordis  deliciae. 

17.  Jesu  mi  bone,  sentiam, 
Amoris  tui  copiam, 

Da  mihi  per  praesentiam 
Tuam  videre  gloriam. 


21.  Quern  tuus  amor  ebriat, 
Novit  quid  Jesus  sapiat : 
Quam  felix  est,  quem  satiat! 
Non  est  ultra  quod  cupiat. 

22.  Jesu,  decus  angelicum. 
In  aure  dulce  canticum. 
In  ore  mel,  mirificum. 
In  corde  nectar  coelicum. 

23.  Desidero  te  millies. 

Mi  Jesu ;  quando  venies  ? 
Me  laetum  quando  facies  ? 
Me  de  te  quando  saties  1 

24.  Amor  tuus  continuus 
Mihi  languor  assiduus, 
Mihi  fructus  mellifluus 
Est  et  vitae  perpetuus. 

25.  Jesu  summa  benignitas, 
Mira  cordis  jucunditas 
Incomprehensa  bonitas, 
Qua  me  stringat  charitas. 

26.  Bonum  mihi  diligere 
Jesum,  nil  ultra  quaerere, 
Mihi  prorsus  deficere, 
Ut  illi  queam  vivere. 

27.  O  Jesu  mi  dulcissime, 
Spes  suspirantis  animae, 
Te  quaerunt  piae  lacrymae, 
Te  clamor  mentis  intimae. 


18.  Cum  digne  loqui  nequeam 
De  te,  tamen  ne  sileam  : 
Amor  facit  ut  audeam. 
Cum  de  te  solum  gaudeam. 

19.  Tua,  Jesu,  dilectio, 
Grata  mentis  reflectio, 
Replens  sine  fastidio, 
Dans  famem  desiderio. 


28.  Quocunque  loco  fuero, 
Mecum  Jesum  desidero  ; 
Quam  laetus,  cum  invenero ! 
Quam  felix,  cum  tenuero  ! 

29.  Tunc  amplexus,  tunc  oscula, 
Quae  vincunt  mellis  pocula, 
Tunc  felix  Christi  copula  ; 
Sed  in  his  parva  morula. 


20.  Qui  te  gustant  esuriunt ; 
Qui  bibunt,  adhuc  sitiunt : 
Desiderare  nesciunt 
Nisi  Jesum,  quem  diligunt. 


30.  Jam  quod  quaesivi,  video  : 
Quod  concupivi,  teneo  ; 
Amore  Jesu  langueo, 
Et  toto  corde  ardeo. 


236 


ST.  BERNARD  AS  A  HYMNIST. 


31.  Jesus  cum  sic  diligitur, 
Hie  amor  non  exstinguitur ; 
Non  tepescit,  nee  moritur; 
Plus  crescit,  et  accenditur. 

32.  Hie  amor  ardet  jugiter, 
Dulcescit  mirabiliter, 
Sapit  delectabiliter, 
Delectat  et  feliciter. 

33.  Hie  amor  missus  ecelitus 
Hseret  mihi  medullitus, 
Mentem  ineendit  penitus, 
Hoe  deleetatur  spiritus. 

34.  O  beatum  incendium, 
Et  ardens  desiderium  ! 
O  dulee  refrigerium, 
Amare  Dei  Filium  ! 

35.  Jesu,  flos  matris  virginis 
Amor  nostras  duleedinis, 
Tibi  laus,  honor  numinis 
Regnum  beatitudinis. 

36.  Veni,  veni,  rex  optima, 
Pater  immensae  gloriae, 
Affulge  menti  clarius, 
Jam  exspectatus  saepius. 

37.  Jesu,  sole  serenior, 
Et  balsamo  suavior, 
Omni  dulcore  dulcior, 
Caeteris  amabilior. 

38.  Cujus  gustus  sic  affieit 
Cujus  odor  sic  reficit, 

In  quo  mens  mea  deficit, 
Solus  amanti  suffieit. 

39.  Tu  mentis  delectatio, 
Amoris  eonsummatio; 
Tu  mea  gloriatio, 
Jesu,  mundi  salvatio. 


40.  Mi  delecte,  revertere, 
Censors  paternae  dexterae ; 
Hostem  vieisti  prospere, 
Jam  cceli  regno  fruere. 

41.  Sequar  te  quoquo  ieris, 
Mihi  toUi  non  poteris. 
Cum  meum  cor  abstuleris, 
Jesu  laus  nostri  generis. 

42.  Cceli  cives,  oceurrite, 
Portas  vestras  attollite 
Triumphatori  dicite, 
Ave,  Jesu,  rex  inclyte. 

43.  Rex  virtutum,  rex  gloriae, 
Rex  insignis  victoriae, 
Jesu  largitor  veniae, 
Honor  ccelestis  patriae. 

44.  Tu  fons  misericordiae, 
Tu  verae  lumen  patriae  ; 
Pelle  nubem  tristitiae, 
Dans  nobis  lueem  gloriae. 

45.  Te  cceli  chorus  praedicat, 
Et  tuas  laudes  replieat ; 
Jesus  orbem  laetificat, 
Et  nos  Deo  pacificat. 

46.  Jesus  in  pace  imperat, 

Quae  omnem  sensum  superat: 
Hane  mea  mens  desiderat, 
Et  ea  frui  properat. 

47.  Jesus  ad  Patrem  rediit, 
Cceleste  regnum  subiit ; 
Cor  meum  a  me  transiit 
Post  Jesum  simul  abiit. 

48.  Quem  prosequamur  ^  laudibus, 
Votis,  hymnis,  et  preeibus  : 
Ut  nos  donet  ccelestibus, 
Secum  perfrui  sedibus. 

Amen. 2 


^  Or  :  "  Jesum  sequamnr. ' ' 

^  Wackernagel  adds  as  the  last  quatrain  : 

*'>S'/s,  Jesii^  meum  gaud ium, 
Qui  est  futuriim  prsemiujn, 
In  te  sit  mea  gloria 
Per  cuncta  semper  sxcula.'' 


ST.  BERNARD  AS  A   HYMXIST. 


237 


From  a  Frankfort  MS.  of  the  14th  century,  in  ^Slone-s  Lateinische  JTymnen 
des  JliUelalters,  1853,  vol.  i,  329  sq.,  under  the  title  Cursus  de  seterna  sapi- 
eniia. 

Ad  JIatufinos. 
I.  Jesu  dulcis  memoria  3.  Jesu,  spes  pcenitentibus, 

Dans  vera  cordis  gaudia,  Quam  pius  es  petentibus, 

Sed  super  mel  et  omnia  Quam  bonus  es  quaerentibus, 

Dulcis  ejus  praesentia.  Sed  quid  invenientibus  ? 


2.  Nil  canitur  suavius, 
Auditur  nil  jocundius, 
Nil  cogitatur  dulcius 
Quam  Jesus,  Dei  filius. 


4.  Sterna  sapientia, 
Tibi  Patrique  gloria 
Cum  Spirito  paraclito 
Per  infinita  saecula. 


I.  Jesu,  rex  admirabilis 
Et  triumphator  nobilis, 
Dulcedo  ineffabilis, 
Totus  desiderabilis. 


In  Laudibus. 


3.  Amor  Jesu  continuus 
Mihi  languor  assiduus^ 
Mihi  Jesus  inellifluus 
Fructus  vitae  perpetuus. 


2.  Nee  lingua  potest  dicere, 
Nee  littera  exprimere, 
Experto  potes  credere, 
Quid  sit  Jesum  diligere. 


/Eterna  sapientia, 
Tibi  Patrique  gloria 
Cum  Spirito  paraclito 
Per  infinita  saecula. 


Amor  Jesu  dulcissimus 
Et  vere  suavissimus, 
Plus  millies  gratissimus, 
Quam  dicere  sufficimus. 


Ad  Frimam. 

3.  Jesu  mi  bone,  sentiam 
Amoris  tui  copiam, 
Da  mihi  per  pcenitentiam 
Tuam  videre  gloriam. 


2.  Jesus  decus  angelicum, 
In  aure  dulce  canticum. 
In  ore  mel  mirificum, 
In  corde  nectar  ccelicum. 


/Eterna  sapientia, 
Tibi  Patrique  gloria 
Cum  Spirito  paraclito 
Per  infinita  saecula. 


I.  Tua,  Jesu,  dilectio, 
Grata  mentis  affectio, 
Replens  sine  fastidio, 
Dans  famem  desiderio. 


Ad  Tertiam. 

3.  Desidero  te  millies, 

Mi  Jesus,  quando  venies, 
Quando  me  laetum  facies, 
Me  de  te  quando  saties  1 


2.  Qui  te  gustant,  esuriunt. 
Qui  bibunt,  adhuc  sitiunt, 
Desiderare  nesciunt 
Nisi  Jesum,  quem  diligunt. 


interna  sapientia, 
Tibi  Patrique  gloria 
Cum  Spirito  paraclito 
Per  infinita  saecula. 


238 


ST.  BERNARD  AS  A  HYMNIST. 


Jesu,  summa  benignitas, 
Mira  cordis  jocunditas, 
Incomprehensa  bonitas, 
Tua  me  stringit  caritas. 

Bonum  mihi  diligere 
Jesum,  nil  ultra  quserere, 
Mihi  prorsus  deficere, 
Ut  illi  queam  vivere. 


Ad  Sextam. 

3.  Jesu  mi  dilectissime, 
Spes  suspirantis  animae, 
Te  quaerunt  piae  lacrimae 
Et  clamor  mentis  intimae. 

4.  Sterna  sapientia. 
Tibi  Patnque  gloria 
Cum  Spirito  paraclito 
Per  infinita  saecula. 


I.  Quocunque  loco  fuero, 
Mecum  Jesum  desidero, 
Quam  felix,  cum  invenero, 
Quam  laetus,  quum  tenuero  ! 


Ad  Nonam. 

3.  Jam,  quod  quaesivi,  video, 
Quod  concupivi,  teneo, 
Amore  Christi  langueo 
Et  corde  totus  ardeo. 


Tunc  amplexus,  tunc  oscula. 
Quae  vincunt  mellis  pocula, 
Tunc  felix  Christi  copula, 
Sed  in  his  brevis  morula. 


Sterna  sapientia, 
Tibi  Patrique  gloria 
Cum  Spirito  paraclito 
Per  infinita  saecula. 


I.  Jesus  sole  praeclarior 
Et  balsamo  suavior, 
Omni  dulcore  dulcior, 
Prae  cunctis  amabilior. 


Ad  Vesperas. 

3.  Jesus,  auctor  clementiae, 
Totius  spes  laetitiae, 
Dulcoris  fons  et  gratiae, 
Verse  cordis  deliciae. 


2.  Tu  mentis  delectatio, 
Amoris  consummatio, 
Tu  mea  gloriatio, 
Jesu,  mundi  salvatio. 


interna  sapientia, 
Tibi  Patrique  gloria 
Cum  Spirito  paraclito 
Per  infinita  saecula. 


Ad  Completorium. 
Jesus  in  pace  imperat,  3.  Jesus  at  patrem  rediit, 

Quae  omnem  sensum  superat,  Cceleste  regnum  subiit, 

Hanc  mea  mens  desiderat  Cor  meum  a  me  transiit, 

Et  ilia  frui  properat.  Post  Jesum  simul  abiit. 


2.  Te  cceli  chorus  praedicat 
Et  tuas  laudes  replicat, 
Jesus  orbem  laetificat 
Et  nos  Deo  pacificat. 


Sterna  sapientia, 
Tibi  Patrique  gloria 
Cum  Spirito  paraclito 
Per  infinita  saecula. 


ST.   BERNARD   AS   A  HYMXIST.  239 

English  Translations  of  Jesu  Dulcis  Memoria. 
Rev.  Edward  Caswall,  Roman  Catholic  (1814-1878). 

From  "  Lyra  CaihoUca,  containing  all  the  Breviary  and  3Iissal  Hymns,^^ 
LQudoD,  1849  (pp.  56-59). 

Vespers. 
{Jcs2(  dulcis  memoria.     Verse  1-4,  Bened.  ed.) 

1 .  Jesu  !  the  very  tliouglit  of  Thee 

With  sweetness  fills  my  breast ; 
But  sweeter  fiir  Thy  face  to  see, 
And  in  Thy  presence  rest. 

2.  Nor  voice  can  sing,  nor  heart  can  frame, 

Nor  can  the  memory  find, 
A  sweeter  sound  than  Thy  blest  name, 
0  Saviour  of  mankind  ! 

3.  0  hope  of  every  contrite  heart, 

0  joy  of  all  the  meek. 
To  those  who  fall,  how  kind  Thou  art ! 
How  good  to  those  who  seek  ! 

4.  But  what  to  those  who  find  ?  ah  !  this 

Nor  tongue  nor  pen  can  show  : 
The  love  of  Jesus,  what  it  is, 
None  but  His  lov'd  ones  know. 

5.  Jesu  !  our  only  joy  be  Thou, 

As  Thou  our  prize  wilt  be  ; 
Jesu  !  be  Thou  our  glory  now. 
And  through  eternity. 

Matins. 

{Jesu,  Rex  admirahilis.    Ver.  9  sqq.) 

1.  0  Jesu  !  King  most' wonderful ! 

Thou  Conciueror  renown'  d  ! 

Thou  Sweetness  most  ineff"able  ! 

In  whom  all  joys  are  found  ! 

2.  When  once  Thou  visltest  the  heart, 

Then  truth  begins  to  shine  ; 
Then  earthly  vanities  depart ; 
Then  kindles  love  divine. 


240  ST.  BERNARD  AS  A  HYMNIST. 

3.  0  Jesu  !  Light  of  all  below  ! 

Thou  Fount  of  life  and  fire  ! 
Surpassing  all  the  joys  we  know, 
All  that  we  can  desire  : 

4.  May  every  heart  confess  thy  name, 

And  ever  Thee  adore  ; 
And  seeking  Thee,  itself  inflame 
To  seek  Thee  more  and  more. 

5.  Thee  may  our  tongues  forever  bless ; 

Thee  may  we  love  alone  ; 

And  ever  in  our  lives  express 

The  image  of  Thine  own. 


Lauds. 
[Jesu,  decus  angelicinn.     Yer.  21  sqq.) 

L  0  Jesu  !  Thou  the  beauty  art 
Of  angel  worlds  above  ; 
Thy  Name  is  music  to  the  heart, 
Enchanting  it  with  love. 

2.  Celestial  sweetness  unalloy'd, 

Who  eat  Thee  hunger  still ; 
Who  drink  of  Thee  still  feel  a  void, 
Which  nought  but  Thou  can  fill. 

3.  0  my  sweet  Jesu  !  hear  the  sighs 

Which  unto  Thee  I  send  ; 
To  Thee  mine  inmost  spirit  cries, 
My  being's  hope  and  end. 

4.  Stay  with  us.  Lord,  and  with  Thy  light 

Illume  the  soul's  abyss ; 
Scatter  the  darkness  of  our  night. 
And  fill  the  world  with  bliss. 

5.  0  Jesu  !  spotless  Virgin  flower  ! 

Our  life  and  joy !  to  Thee 
Be  praise,  beatitude  and  power, 
Through  all  eternity. 


ST.  BERNARD   AS   A   HYMNIST.  241 

Rev.  James  Waddell  Alexander,  d.d.,  Presbyterian  (1804-1859). 

First  published  in  the  "  Mercersburg  Review  "  for  April,  1859  (p.  304,  with 
the  Latin  text  and  an  introductory  note  by  Philip  Schaflf). 

JESUS,  HOW  SWEET  THY  MEMORY  IS. 
{Jcsii  chdcfs  memoria.     Yer,  1  sqq. ) 

1.  Jesus,  how  sweet  Thy  memory  is  ! 
Thiukhig  of  Thee  is  truest  bliss ; 
Beyond  all  lioneyed  sweets  below 
Thy  presence  is  it  here  to  know. 

2.  Tongue  cannot  speak  a  loveher  word, 
Nought  more  melodious  can  be  heard, 
Nought  sweeter  can  be  thought  upon, 
Than  Jesus  Christ,  God's  only  Sou. 

3.  Jesus,  Thou  hope  of  those  who  turn. 
Gentle  to  those  who  pray  and  mourn, 
Ever  to  those  who  seek  Thee,  kind, — 
What  must  Thou  be  to  those  who  find  ! 

4.  Jesus,  Thou  dost  true  pleasures  bring, 
Light  of  the  heart,  and  living  spring ; 
Higher  than  highest  pleasures  roll, 
Or  warmest  wishes  of  the  soul. 

5.  Lord,  in  our  bosoms  ever  dwell, 
And  of  our  souls  the  night  dispel ; 
Pour  on  our  inmost  niiud  the  ray, 
And  fill  om-  earth  with  blissful  day. 

6.  If  Thou  dost  enter  to  the  heart, 
Then  shines  the  truth  in  every  part ; 
All  worldly  vanities  grow  vile, 

And  charity  burns  bright  the  while. 

7.  This  love  of  Jesus  is  most  sweet, 
This  laud  of  Jesus  is  most  meet; 
Thousand  and  thousand  times  more  dear 
Than  tongue  of  man  can  utter  here. 

8.  Praise  Jesus,  all  with  one  accord, 
Crave  Jesus,  all,  your  love  and  Lord, 
Seek  Jesus,  warmly,  all  below, 

And  seeking  into  rapture  glow  ! 
16 


242  ST.  BERNARD  AS   A  HYMNIST. 

9.  Thou  art  of  heavenly  grace  the  fount, 
Thou  art  the  true  Sun  of  God's  mount 
Scatter  the  saddening  cloud  of  night, 
And  pour  upon  us  glorious  light ! 


Rev.  Ray  Palmer,  d.d.,  Congregationalist  (1808-1887).     Written,  1858,  at 

Albany,  N.  Y. 

A  free  reproduction  of  five  stanzas. 

JESUS,  THOU  JOY  OF  LOVING  HEARTS. 

("Jesii,  didcedo  cordium.'^     Yer,  4  sqq. ) 

1.  Jesus,  Thou  Joy  of  loving  hearts, 

Thou  Fount  of  life,  Thou  Light  of  men. 
From  the  best  bliss  that  earth  imparts, 
We  turn  unfilled  to  Thee  again. 

2.  Thy  truth  unchanged  hath  ever  stood  ; 

Thou  savest  those  that  on  Thee  call; 
To  them  that  seek  Thee,  Thou  art  good, 
To  them  that  find  Thee,  All  in  all. 

3.  We  taste  Thee,  0  thou  living  Bread, 

And  long  to  feast  upon  Thee  still ; 
We  drink  of  Thee,  the  Fountain  Head, 
And  thirst,  our  souls  from  Thee  to  fill. 

4.  Our  restless  spirits  yearn  for  Thee, 

Where'er  our  changeful  lot  is  cast  ; 
Glad,  when  Thy  gracious  smile  we  see. 
Blest,  when  our  faith  can  hold  Thee  fast. 

5.  0  Jesus,  ever  with  us  stay  ; 

Make  all  our  moments  calm  and  bright ; 
Chase  the  dark  night  of  sin  away  ; 
Shed  o'er  the  world  Thy  holy  light. 


De.  Abraham  Coles,  1889. 

Verses  1,  2,  3,  5. 

la.  The  memory  of  Jesus'  Name 
Is  past  expression  sweet : 
At  each  dear  mention,  hearts  aflame 
With  quicker  pulses  beat. 


ST.  BERNARD   AS   A  HYMNIST.  243 

Ih.  But  sweet  above  all  sweetest  tilings 
Creation  can  aiford, 
That  sweetness  which  His  presence  brings, 
The  vision  of  the  Lord. 

2.  Sweeter  than  His  dear  Name  is  nought ; 

None  worthier  of  laud 
Was  ever  sung  or  heard  or  thought 
Than  Jesus,  Son  of  Grod. 

3.  Thou  hope  to  those  of  contrite  heart  I 

To  those  who  ask,  how  kind  ! 
To  those  who  seek,  how  good  Thou  art 
But  w^hat  to  them  who  find  ? 

4.  No  heart  is  able  to  conceive  ; 

Nor  tongue  nor  pen  express  : 
Who  tries  it  only  can  believe 
How  choice  that  blessedness. 


A  Germax  Teaxslatiox  by  Count  Zinzexdoef. 

Originally  31  stanzas.  See  Albert  Kuapp's  edition  of  Geisiliche  Lieder  des 
Grafcn  von  Zinzendorf,  Stuttgart,  1845,  pp.  94,  95,  and  Schaff's  Deutsches 
Gesangbuch,  Philadelphia,  1859,  etc.,  Xo.  160. 

1.  Jesu  !  Deiner  zu  gedenken, 

Kann  dem  Herzen  Freude  schenken  ; 
Doch  mit  siissen  Himmelstrlinken 
Labt  uns  Deine  Gegenwart ! 


2.  Lieblicher  hat  nichts  geklungen, 
Holder  ist  noch  nichts  gesungen, 
Sanfter  nichts  in' s  Herz  gedrungen, 

Als  mein  Jesus,  Gottes  Sohn. 

3.  Trbstlich,  wenn  man  reuig  stehet ; 
Herzlich,  wenn  man  vor  Dir  flehet ; 
Lieblich,  wenn  man  zu  Dir  gehet ; 

Unaussprechlich,  wenn  Du  da  ! 

4.  Du  erquickst  das  Herz  von  inncn, 
Lebensquell  und  Licht  der  Sinnen  ! 
Freude  muss  vor  Dir  zerrinnen  ; 

Niemand  sehnt  sich  g'nug  nach  Dir. 


244  ST.  BERNAED   AS  A  HYMNIST. 

5.  Scliweigt,  ilir  ungeiibten  Zungen  ! 
Welches  Lied  hat  Ihn  besungcn  ? 
Niemand  weiss,  als  der's  errungen, 

Was  die  Liebe  Cliristi  sei. 

6.  Jesu,  wunderbarer  Konig, 
Dem  die  Yolker  untertlianig, 
Alles  ist  vor  Dir  zu  wenig, 

Du  allein  bist  liebenswerth. 

7.  Wenn  Du  uns  trittst  vor' s  Gresichte, 
Wird  es  in  dem  Hcrzen  licbte, 
Alles  Eitle  wird  zunichte, 

Und  die  Liebe  gliihet  auf. 

8.  Acli,  Du  hast  fiir  uns  gelitten, 
Wolltest  all  Dein  Blut  ausschiitten, 
Hast  vom  Tod  uns  losgestritten, 

Und  zur  Gottesschau  gebracht ! 

9.  Konig,  wlirdig  aller  Kranze, 
Quell  der  Klarheit  ohne  Grrenze, 
Komm  der  Seele  nahcr,  gliinze  ! 

Komm,  Du  liingst  Erwarteter  ! 

10.  Dich  erhbhn  des  Himmels  Heere, 
Dich  besingen  unsre  Chore  : 

Du  bist  unsre  Macht  und  Ehre, 
Du  hast  uns  mit  Gott  versohnt  ! 

1 1 .  Jesus  hcrrscht  in  grossem  Frieden  ; 
Er  bewahrt  Sein  Yolk  hienieden, 
Dass  es,  von  Ihm  ungeschieden, 

Frohlich  Ihn  erwarten  kann. 

]  2.  Himmelsbiirger,  kommt  gezogcn, 
OefFnct  eurer  Thore  Bogcn, 
Sagt  dem  Sieger  wohlgewogen  : 
' '  Holder  Kijnig,  sei  gegriisst  ! ' ' 

13.  Jesus,  Den  wir  jetzt  mit  Loben 
Und  mit  Psalmen  lioch  crhoben, 
Jesus  hat  aus  Gnaden  droben 
Friedenshiittcn  uns  bestellt ! 


ST.  BERNARD   AS   A   HYMXIST.  245 

ST.  BERNARD'S  PASSION  HYMNS.  ^ 
St.  Bernard    wrote   seven    passion   hymns  addressed    to    the 
wonnded   members  of  Christ's    body  suspended    on    tlie  Cross 
(the  feet,  the  knees,  the  hands,  the  side,  the  breast,  the  heart, 
and  the  face),  as  follows  : — 

Ad  Pedes  : 

"  Salve.,  mundi salutare.'^ 

Ad  Genua. 

''  Salve,  Je.m,  rex  sanctorum.^' 

Ad  Manus  : 

"  Salve,  Jesii  pastor  hone.''^ 

Ad  Latus  : 
"  Salve,  Jesu,  summe  honu^.''^ 

Ad  Pectus  : 

"  Salve,  sal  lis  mea  Dens.'''' 

Ad  Cor  : 

"  Summi regis  cor,  aveto.''^ 

Ad  Faciem  : 

"  Salve,  caput  cruentatum.'''' 

The  last  two  hymns  are  the  best  and  have  been  well  trans- 
lated. 

Ad  Cor  Cheisti. 

Summi  regis  cor,  aveto. 

I.  Summi  regis  cor,  aveto,  2.   O  mors  ilia  quam  amara, 

Te  saluto  corde  Iseto,  Quam  immitis,  quam  avara; 

Te  complecti  me  delectat,  Quae  per  cellam  introivit, 

Et  hoc  meum  cor  affectat,  In  qua  mundi  vita  vivit, 

Ut  ad  te  loquar,  animes.  Te  mordens,  cordulcissimum. 

Quo  amore  vincebaris.  Propter  mortem  quam  tulisti 

Quo  dolore  torquebaris,  Quando  pro  me  defecisti, 

Cum  te  totum  exhaurires,  Cordis  mei  cor  delectum, 

Ut  te  nobis  impartires,  In  te  meum  fer  affectum, 

Et  nos  a  morte  tolleres  !  Hoc  est  quod  opto  plurimum. 

^  Ehythmica  Oratio  ad  unum  quodlihet  memhrum  Christi  paiieniis  ct  a  eruce 
pendentis.  Kcinigsfeld  has  abridged  and  combined  tlie  seven  hymns  into  one, 
in  his  German  translation.  Lat.  Hymnen  und  Gesdnge,  Second  selection, 
Bonn,  1865,  pp.  191-200. 


246 


ST.  BERNARD  AS  A  HYMNIST. 


O  cor  dulce  praedilectum, 
Munda  cor  meum  illectum, 
Et  in  vanis  induratum  ; 
Pium  fac  et  timoratum 

Repulso  tetro  frigore. 
Per  medullam  cordis  mei, 
Peccatoris  atque  rei, 
Tuus  amor  transferatur, 
Quo  cor  totum  rapiatur 

Languens  amoris  vulnere. 

Dilatare,  aperire, 
Tanquam  rosa  fragrans  mire, 
Cordi  meo  te  conjunge, 
Unge  illud  et  compunge  ; 

Qui  amat  te,  quid  patitur  ? 
Quidnam  agat  nescit  vere, 
Nee  se  valet  cohibere, 
Nullum  modum  dat  amori, 
Multa  morte  vellet  mori, 

Amore  quisquis  vincitur. 


5.  Viva  cordis  voce  clamo, 
Dulce  cor;  te  namque  amo 
Ad  cor  meum  inclinare, 
Ut  se  possit  applicare, 

Devoto  tibi  pectore. 
Tuo  vivat  in  amore 
Ne  dormitet  in  torpore, 
Ad  te  oret,  ad  te  ploret 
Te  adoret,  te  honoret, 
Te  fruens  omni  tempore. 

5.  Rosa  cordis,  aperire, 
Cujus  odor  fragrat  mire, 
Te  dignare  dilatare, 
Fac  cor  meum  anhelare 

Flamma  desiderii. 
Da  cor  cordi  sociari. 
Tecum,  Jesu,  vulnerari. 
Nam  cor  cordi  similatur 
Si  cor  meum  perforatur 
Sagittis  improperii. 


7.  Infer  tuum  intra  sinum 
Cor  ut  tibi  sit  vicinum, 
In  dolore  gaudioso 
Cum  deformi  specioso, 

Quod  vix  se  ipsum  capiat. 
Hie  repauset,  hie  moretur, 
Ecce  jam  post  te  movetur, 
Te  ardenter  vult  sitire. 
Jesu,  noli  contraire, 

Ut  bene  de  te  sentiat. 

"HEART  OF  CHRIST  MY  KING." 

{Summi  regis  cor,  aveto.) 
Translated  by  the  Rev.  E.  A.  Washbuen,  d.d.,  New  York,  late  Rector 
of  Calvary  Church  and  member  of  the  American  Bible  Revision  Committee 
(d.  1881).     First  published  in  Schafif 's  Christ  in  Song,  1868. 
1.  Heart  of  Christ  my  King  !  I  greet  Thee  : 
Gladly  goes  my  heart  to  meet  Thee  ; 
To  embrace  Thee  now  it  burnetii, 
And  with  eager  thirst  it  yearneth, 
Spirit  blest,  to  talk  with  Thee. 
Oh  !  what  love  divine  compelling  ! 
With  what  grief  Thy  breast  was  swelling  ! 
All  Tliy  soul  for  us  o'erflowhig, 
All  Thy  life  on  us  bestowing, 

Sinful  men  from  death  to  free  ! 


ST.  BERXAED  AS   A  HYMNIST.  247 

Oh,  that  death  !  in  bitter  anguish, 
Cruel,  pitiless  to  languish  ! 
To  the  inmost  cell  it  entered. 
Where  the  life  of  man  was  centred, 

Gnawing  Thy  sweet  heartstrings  there. 
For  that  death  which  Thou  hast  tasted, 
For  that  form  by  soitow  wasted, 
Heart  to  my  heart  ever  nearest. 
Kindle  in  me  love  the  dearest ; 

This,  0  Lord,  is  all  my  prayer. 


0  sweet  Heart !  my  choicest  blessing, 
Cleanse  my  heart,  its  sin  confessing  ; 
Hardened  in  its  worldly  folly, 
Make  it  soft  again,  and  holy, 

Melting  all  its  icy  ground. 
To  my  heart's  core  come,  and  quicken 
Me  a  sinner,  conscience-stricken  ; 
By  Thy  grace  my  soul  renewing. 
All  its  powers  to  Thee  subduing, 

Languishing  with  love's  sweet  wound. 


Open  flower,  with  blossom  fairest, 
As  a  rose  of  fragrance  rarest ; 
Knit  to  Thee  mine  inmost  feeling  ; 
Pierce,  then  pour  the  oil  of  healing  ; 

What  to  love  of  Thee  is  pain  ? 
Naught  he  fears,  whom  Thy  love  calleth, 
No  self-sacrifice  appalleth  ; 
Love  divine  can  have  no  measure. 
Every  death  to  him  is  pleasure, 

AVhere  such  holy  love  doth  reign. 


5.  Cries  my  heart  with  living  voices  ; 
In  Thee,  heart  of  Christ,  rejoices ; 
Draw  Thou  nigh  with  gracious  motion, 
Knit  it,  till  in  full  devotion 

Thou  its  every  power  employ. 
Love  be  all  my  life  ;  no  slumber 
E'er  my  drowsy  thought  incumber  ; 
To  Thee  praying,  Thee  imi)loring, 
Thee  aye  praising,  Thee  adoring. 
Thee  my  sempiternal  joy  ! 


248 


ST.  BERNARD  AS  A  HYMNIST. 


6.  Heart  Rose,  in  thy  fulness  blossom, 
Slied  Thy  perfume  o'er  my  bosom  ; 
Be  Thy  beauty  in  me  growing ; 
Light  the  fires  for  ever  glowing 

On  the  altar  of  my  heart. 
Aid  me,  Thy  dear  image  wearing. 
E'en  Thy  wounds,  my  Jesu,  sharing, 
Till  Thy  very  form  I  borrow, 
When  my  bosom  feels  Thy  sorrow, 

Piercing  with  its  keenest  dart. 

7.  To  Thy  holy  heart,  oh,  take  me  ! 
Thy  companion,  Jesu,  make  me. 
In  that  sorrow  joy  exceeding, 

In  that  beauty  scarred  and  bleeding, 
Till  my  heart  be  wholly  Thine. 

Rest,  my  soul !  now  naught  shall  sever  j 

After  Thee  it  follows  ever ; 

Here  its  thirst  finds  glad  fulfilling  ; 

Jesu !  be  Thou  not  unwilling, 

Take  this  loving  heai't  of  mine  ! 


I.  Salve,  caput  cruentatum, 
Totum  spinis  coronatum, 
Conquassatum,  vulneratum, 
Arundine  sic  verberatum, 

Facie  sputis  illita. 
Salve,  cujus  dulcis  vultus, 
Immutatus  et  incultus, 
Immutavit  suum  florem, 
Totus  versus  in  pallorem, 

Quem  cceli  tremit  curia. 


Ad  Faciem  Christi. 
Salve,  caput  cruentatum. 

3.  In  hac  tua  passione, 


Me  agnosce,  Pastor  bone, 
Cujus  sumpsi  mel  ex  ore, 
Haustum  lactis  cum  dulcore, 

Prae  omnibus  deliciis. 
Non  me  reum  asperneris. 
Nee  indignum  dedigneris, 
Morte  tibi  jam  vicina, 
Tuum  caput  hie  inclina, 

In  meis  pausa  brachiis. 


Omnis  vigor  atque  viror 
Hine  recessit,  non  admiror, 
Mors  apparet  in  adspeetu 
Totus  pendens  in  defeetu, 

Attritus  aegra  maeie. 
Sic  affectus,  sic  despectus, 
Propter  me  sic  interfectus, 
Peceatori  tarn  indigno 
Cum  amoris  in  te  signo 

Appare  clara  facie. 


Tuse  sanctae  passioni, 
Me  gauderem  interponi, 
In  hac  cruce  tecum  mori; 
Praesta  crucis  amatori 

Sub  cruce  tua  moriar. 
Morti  tuae  tam  amarae 
Grates  ago,  Jesu  care  ; 
Qui  es  Clemens,  pie  Deus, 
Fac  quod  petit  tuus  reus, 

Ut  absque  te  non  finiar. 


ST.  BEKNARD   AS   A   IIYMNIST.  249 

5.  Dum  me  mori  est  necesse, 
Noli  mihi  tunc  deesse  ; 
In  tremenda  mortis  hora 
Veni,  Jesu,  absque  mora, 

Quere  me  et  libera. 
Cum  me  jubes  emigrare, 
Jesu  care,  tunc  appare  : 
O  amator  amplectende, 
Temet  ipsum  tunc  ostende 

In  cruce  salutifera. 


HAIL,  THOU  HEAD  !  SO  BRUISED  AND  WOUNDED. 

{Salve,  caput  cruentatum.) 

English  Translation  by  ]\Irs.  Elizabeth  Rundle  Chaeles,  authoress  of 
the  Chronicles  of  the  Schonbcrg-Cotta  Family  (1863).  From  Christian  Life  in 
Souff,  p.  159  (Am.  ed.) 

1.  Hail,  Thou  Head  !  so  bruised  and  wounded, 
With  the  crown  of  thorns  surrounded  ; 
Smitten  with  the  mocking  reed, 
^Younds  which  may  not  cease  to  bleed. 

Trickling  faint  and  slow. 
Hail !  from  whose  most  blessed  brow 
None  can  wipe  the  blood-drops  now ; 
All  the  flower  of  life  has  fled, 
Mortal  paleness  there  instead  ; 
Thou,  before  whose  presence  dread 

Angels  trembling  bow. 

2.  All  Thy  vigor  and  Thy  Hfe 
Fading  in  this  bitter  strife ; 
Death  his  stamp  on  Thee  has  set, 
Hollow  and  emaciate. 

Faint  and  drooping  there. 
Thou  this  agony  and  scorn 
Hast  for  me,  a  sinner,  borne, 
Me,  unworthy,  all  for  me ! 
With  those  signs  of  love  on  Thee, 

Glorious  Face,  appear ! 

3.  Yet,  in  this  Thine  agony, 
Faithful  Shepherd,  thiuk  of  me ; 
From  whose  lips  of  love  divine 
Sweetest  draughts  of  life  are  mine, 

Purest  honey  flows. 


250  ST.  BERNARD  AS   A   HYMNIST. 

All  unworthy  of  Thy  thought, 
Guilty,  yet  reject  me  not ; 
Unto  me  Thy  head  incline, 
Let  that  dying  head  of  Thine, 
In  mine  arms  repose  ! 

4.  Let  me  true  communion  know 
With  Thee  in  Thy  sacred  woe, 
Counting  all  beside  but  dross. 
Dying  with  Thee  on  Thy  cross : 

'Neath  it  will  I  die  ! 
Thanks  to  Thee  with  every  breath, 
Jesus,  for  thy  bitter  death  ; 
Grant  Thy  guilty  one  this  prayer, 
When  my  dying  hour  is  near, 

Gracious  God,  be  nigh  ! 

5.  When  my  dying  hour  must  be. 
Be  not  absent  then  from  me  ; 
In  that  dreadful  hour,  I  pray, 
Jesus,  come  without  delay  : 

See  and  set  me  free  ! 
When  Thou  biddest  me  depart, 
Whom  I  cleave  to  with  my  heart, 
Lover  of  my  soul,  be  near  ; 
With  Thy  saving  cross  appear, 

Show  Thyself  to  me. 


Dr.  Abraham  Coles,  1889. 

Dr.  Coles,  of  Scotch  Plains,  New  Jersey,  the  successful  translator  of  Dies 
Jrse,  and  Stabat  3Iater,  has  reproduced,  but  has  not  yet  published,  all  the 
passion  hymns  of  St.  Bernard,  and  kindjy  placed  this  last  at  my  disposal. 

1.  Hail,  0  bleeding  Head  and  wounded. 
With  a  crown  of  thorns  surrounded, 
Buifeted,  and  bruised  and  battered, 
Smote  with  reed  by  striking  shattered. 

Face  with  spittle  vilely  smeared ! 
Hail,  whose  visage  sweet  and  comely. 
Marred  by  fouling  stains  and  homely. 
Changed  as  to  its  blooming  color, 
All  now  turned  to  deathly  pallor. 

Making  heavenly  hosts  affeared  ! 


ST.  BERNARD   AS   A   HYMNIST.  251 

Back  tlic  life-blood  liatli  retreated, 
Of  all  vital  force  depleted, 
In  Thy  looks  death  plainly  painting — 
There  Thou  hangest  pale  and  fainting, 

Wasted,  haggard,  worn  and  lean  : 
Tims  affected,  disrespected, 
For  me  thus  to  death  subjected, 
Be  to  me  a  sinner  gracious, 
Of  Thy  love  let  token  precious 

In  Thy  shining  Face  be  seen  ! 


0  Good  Shepherd,  favor  show  me, 
In  Thj^  passion  deign  to  know  me  ! 
From  Thy  mouth  I've  honey  eaten, 
Milk  have  dnink,  with  power  to  sweeten 

INIore  than  aught  the  senses  charms. 
Spurn  not  me,  a  culprit  pleading. 
Me  disdain  not,  mercy  needing ! 
Now  Thy  life  about  resigning, 
Hitherward  Thy  Head  inclining, 

Breathe  Thy  life  out  in  my  arms  ! 


That  Thy  passion  be  not  single 
I  would  like  therein  to  mingle  ; 
I  would  wish  to  share  Thine  anguish, 
On  the  cross  with  Thee  to  languish. 

Of  Thy  cross  enamored  be  : 
For  Thy  bitter  death,  I  render 
Thanks  to  Thee,  O  Jesu  tender ! 
God  of  mercy,  I  beseech  Thee, 
May  the  prayer  I  offer  reach  Thee, — 

Let  me  die  not  without  Thee. 


While  to  die  is  necessary. 
Fail  me  not  then,  be  not  very 
Far  from  me  in  that  dread  season. 
Quickly  come,  for  urgent  reason 

Guard,  defend,  and  set  me  free. 
When,  dear  Jesu,  Thou  dost  call  me, 
Then  appear  lest  ill  befall  me  : 
0  divine  and  gracious  Lover, 
In  Thy  saving  Cross  discover 

Thyself  able  to  save  me  ! 


252  ST.  BERNAED  AS  A   HYMNIST. 


MODEEX  EEPRODUCTIONS  OF  ANCIENT  HYMNS. 

Some  hymns,  like  the  Hebrew  Psalms,  have  had  the  good  for- 
tune to  be  renewed  in  countries  and  languages  of  which  the  authors 
never  dreamed.  The  oldest  Christian  poem,  written  by  Clement 
of  Alexandria  (c.  200),  in  praise  of  the  Divine  Logos,  remained 
for  sixteen  centuries  unknown,  except  to  students  of  church 
history,  until  it  was  popularized  in  our  age  by  a  felicitous 
transfusion  of  Dr.  Dexter,  an  American  clergyman.-^  Dr.  John 
Mason  Neale  has  brought  to  light  the  hidden  treasures  of  Greek 
hymnody,  and  enriched  English  and  American  hymn  books  with 
some  of  the  choicest  lyrics  of  Anatolius,  John  of  Damascus, 
Cosmas  of  Jerusalem,  St.  Theophanes,  Andrew  of  Crete,  Theo- 
dore of  the  Studium,  Theoctistus  of  the  Studlum,  and  Stephen  of 
St.  Sabas  (author  of  "  Art  thou  weary,  art  thou  languid  ^'')? 
He  has  also  popularized  by  abridgment  and  free  reproduction 
the  heavenly  Jerusalem  hymn,  Hora  novisslma,  of  Bernard  of 
Cluny  (a  contemporary  of  St.  Bernard  of  Clairvaux).^ 

The  last  of  the  seven  passion  hymns  of  St.  Bernard  has  passed 
through  two  transformations  which  are  fully  equal  to  the  original 
and  have  made  it  familiar  to  a  much  larger  number  of  readers  in 
Europe  and  America.  The  first  is  the  famous  passion  hymn  of 
Paul  Gerhardt,  "  0  TIaupt  voll  Blut  und  Wunden/^  which 
appeared  first  in  1656,  and  may  be  found  in  every  good  German 
hymn  book.     The  second  is  Dr.  Alexander's  "  0  Sacred  Head 

^  See  both  in  Schaff 's  Church  History,  ii.  230  sq.  (revised  fifth  ed.) 

2  See  Neale's  Hymns  of  the  Eastern  Church,  London  1862,  third  ed.  1866, 
and  an  account  of  Greek  Hymnody  in  Schaff 's  Church  History,  vol.  iv.  402- 
415. 

3  Neale's  Mediseval  Hymns  and  Sequences,  London,  1851,  third  cd.  1867. 
Comp.  Schaff 's  Christ  in  Song,  pp.  511-516,  London  ed,  I  have  a  copy  of 
the  original  poem  (perhaps  the  only  one  in  this  country),  published  by 
Matthias  Flacius,  and  printed  at  Basel  with  a  preface  dated  Magdeburg,  May 
1,  1556,  under  the  title  :  Varia  Doctorum  piorumque  Virorum  de  corrupto 
JEccIcsise  statu  Poc'mata,  pp.  494.  Bernard's  poem  I)e  Coniemptu  Miindi,  ad 
Fetrum  ahhatcm  snum,  pp.  247-349,  begins  :  ^^  Hora  novissima,  tempora  pessima 
S7mt,  vigilemtis,^^  and  contains  nearly  three  thousand  lines  of  dactylic  hexa- 
meters with  the  leonine  and  tailed  rhyme,  each  line  being  broken  up  in  three 
equal  parts.  Neale  has  selected  tlie  incidental  description  of  the  heavenly 
Jerusalem,  which  is  contrasted  with  the  misery  of  this  corrupt  world. 


ST.  BERNARD  AS   A   HYMNIST. 


253 


noivivouncled/^  wliicli  was  first  published  in  Schaff's  ^'Deutsche 
Kirclienfreund,^^  for  March,  1849,  and  has  passed  into  several 
American  liymn  books,  though  in  some  of  them  with  arbitrary 
abridgments  and  mis-improvements.^ 

I  present  them  both  in  parallel  columns : — 


Paul  Geriiakdt.     1G5G. 

1.  0  Ilaupt  voll  Blut  una  Wundcn, 

Toll  Scliincrz  unJ  roller  Ilohn  ! 
0  Ilaupt,  zum  Spott  gcbunden 

Mit  cincr  Dorncnkron  ! 
0  Ilaupt,  sonst  schon  gezierct 

Mit  hochster  Elir  und  Zier, 
Jetzt  abcr  hochst  schiuipfirct, 

Gegriissest  seist  Du  mir  ! 


James  AV,  Alexander.     1849. 

! .  0  sacred  Head,  now  wounded, 

With    grief    and    shame   weighed 
down  ; 
Now  scornfully  surrounded 

With  thorns.  Thy  only  crown  ; 
0  sacred  Head,  what  glory, 

What  bliss,  till  now  was  Thine  ! 
Yet,  though  despised  and  gory, 
I  joy  to  call  Thee  mine. 


Du  edles  Angesichte, 

Davor  sonst  schrickt  und  scheut 
Das  grosse  Weltgewichte, 

Wie  bist  Du  so  bespeit, 
Wie  biit  Du  so  erbleichet, 

Wer  hat  Dcin  Augenlicht, 
Dem  sonst  kein  Licht  nicht  gleichet, 

So  schandlich  zuarericht't? 


0  noblest  brow,  and  dearest. 

In  other  days  the  world 
All  feared,  when  Thou  appearedst ; 

What  shame  on  Thee  is  hurl'd  ! 
How  art  Thou  \)ii\e  with  anguish, 

With  sore  abuse  and  scorn ; 
How  does  that  visage  languish 

Which  once  was  bris-ht  as  morn  ! 


Die  Farbe  Deincr  Wangen, 
Der  rothen  Lippen  Pracht 

1st  hin  und  ganz  vergangen  : 
Des  blassen  Todes  Macht 


The  blushes  late  residing 
Upon  that  holy  cheek. 

The  roses  once  abiding 
Upon  those  lips  so  meek 


^  Dr.  James  W.  Alexander  sent  me  the  hymn  from  New  York,  where  he 
was  then  pastor,  with  the  remark  that  some  stanzas  of  his  Tersiou  had  been 
previously  "so  mutilated  and  butchered  by  editors  of  papers  that  I  cannot 
own  as  my  offspring  any  but  the  text  which  I  annex. ' '  He  added  :  ' '  Though 
very  Anglican  in  my  origin,  education  and  tenets,  I  have  a  deep  interest  in 
German  Christianity,  and,  as  one  of  its  richest  manifestations,  in  German 
hymns.  You  will  guess  as  much  when  I  add  that  I  have  around  me  not 
only  Wackernagel's  Paul  Gerhardt,  but  his  larger  work,  as  well  as  the  hymns 
of  the  Unitas  Fratrum,  the  whole  of  Zinzendorf,  and  two  collections  of  Latin 
hymnology.  In  my  humble  judgment,  he  who  has  produced  one  such  hjann 
as  tliat  of  the  Electress  (of  Brandenburg)  '  Jesus,  meine  Zuvcrsicht^^  or  (Paul 
Gerhardt's)  '  Wie  soil  ichDich  cmpfangen,''  has  not  lived  in  vain  ;  even  though 
he  has  done  nothing  else."  {Der  Deutsche  Kirchcnfrcund,  INIercersburg, 
Penna.,  vol.  II.  1849,  p.  90  sq.)  Dr.  Alexander  is  beyond  a  doubt  one  of  the 
best  translators  of  German  hj^mns  into  idiomatic  English,  and  for  this,  if  for 
no  other  reason,  "has  not  lived  in  vain." 


254 


ST.  BERNARD  AS   A  HYMNIST. 


Hat  alles  hingenommen, 
Hat  alles  liingerafft, 

Und  dahcr  bist  Du  kommen 
Von  Deines  Leibes  Kraft. 


Alas  !  they  have  departed; 

Wan  Death  has  riQed  all ! 
For  weak,  and  broken-hearted, 

I  see  Thy  body  fall. 


4.  Nun,  was  Du,  Herr,  erduldet, 

1st  alles  meine  Last, 
Ich  hab  es  selbst  verschuldet, 

"Was  Du  getragen  ha^t. 
Schau  her,  hier  steh'  ich  Armer, 

Der  Zorn  verdienct  hat: 
Gib  mir,  0  mein  Erbarmer, 

Den  Anblick  Deiner  Gnad' ! 


4.  What  Thou,  my  Lord,  hast  suffered 

Was  all  for  sinners'  gain; 
Mine,  mine  was  the  transgression, 

But  Thine  the  deadly  pain. 
Lo !  here  I  fall,  my  Saviour  ! 

'Tis  I  deserve  Thy  place; 
Look  on  me  with  Thy  favor, 

Vouchsafe  to  me  Thy  grace. 


5.  Erkenne  mich,  mein  Hiiter, 

Mein  Hirte,  nimm  mich  an 
Von  Dir,  Quell  aller  Giiter, 

1st  mir  viel  Guts  getban, 
Dein  Mund  hat  mich  gelabet 

Mit  Milch  und  slisser  Kost, 
Dein  Geist  hat  mich  begabet 

Mit  mancher  Himmelslust. 


5.  Pteceive  me,  my  Redeemer, 

My  Shepherd,  make  me  Thine; 
Of  every  good  the  fountain. 

Thou  art  the  spring  of  mine. 
Thy  lips  with  love  distilling, 

And  milk  of  truth  sincere, 
AVith  heaven's  bliss  are  filling 

The  soul  that  trembles  here. 


6.  Ich  will  hier  bei  Dir  stehen, 

Verachte  mich  doch  nicht ! 
Von  Dir  will  ich  nicht  gehen, 

Wann  Dir  Dein  Ilerze  bricht; 
Wann  Dein  Haupt  wird  erblassen 

Im  letzten  Todesstoss, 
Alsdann  will  ich  Dich  fassen, 

In  meinen  Arm  und  Schoss. 


6.  Beside  Thee,  Lord,  I've  taken 

My  place — forbid  me  not ! 
Hence  will  I  ne'er  be  shaken. 

Though  Thou  to  death  be  brought. 
If  pain's  last  paleness  liold  Thee 

In  agony  opprest. 
Then,  then  will  I  enfold  Thee 

Within  this  arm  and  breast ! 


7.  Es  dient  zu  meinen  Freuden 

Und  kommt  mir  herzlich  wohl, 
Wenn  ich  in  Deinem  Leiden, 

Mein  Ileil,  mich  finden  soil. 
Ach !  mocht  ich,  o  mein  Leben, 

An  Deinem  Kreuze  hier 
Mein  Leben  von  mir  geben, 

Wie  Avohl  geschilhe  mir  ! 


7.  The  joy  can  ne'er  be  spoken. 

Above  all  joys  beside, 
When  in  Thy  body  broken 

I  thus  with  safety  hide. 
My  Lord  of  life,  desiring 

Thy  glory  now  to  see. 
Beside  the  Cross  expiring, 

I'd  breathe  my  soul  to  Thee. 


Ich  dnnkc  Dir  von  Herzen, 
0  Jesu,  liebstcr  Freund, 

Fur  Deines  Todcs  Schmerzen, 
Da  Da's  so  gut  gcmcint. 

Ach  !  gib,  dass  ich  mich  halte 
Zu  Dir  und  Deiner  Trcu, 

Und  wann  ich  nun  erkalte, 
In  Dir  mein  Ende  sei. 


8.  What  language  shall  I  borrow 

To  thank  Thee,  dearest  Friend, 
For  this.  Thy  dying  sorrow, 

Thy  ])ity  without  end  ? 
0  make  me  Thine  forever, 

And  should  I  fainting  be, 
Lord,  let  me  never,  never. 

Outlive  my  lovo  to  Theo. 


ST.  BERNARD   AS   A   HYMNIST. 


255 


9.  Wann  ich  einmal  soil  scheiden, 

So  scheido  nicht  von  mir; 
AVann  ich  den  Tod  soil  leidcn, 

So  tritt  Du  dann  hcrfiir. 
"Wann  mir  am  allerbUnijstcn 

Wird  um  das  Ilerze  soin, 
So  reiss  mich  aus  don  Aengsten 

Kraft  Deiner  Angst  und  Pein. 


0.  And  ■when  I  am  departing, 

0  part  not  Thou  from  me; 
When  mortal  pangs  are  darting, 

Come,  Lord,  and  set  me  free  ! 
And  when  my  heart  must  languish 

Amidst  the  final  throe, 
Release  me  from  my  anguish 

By  Thine  own  pain  and  woe  !  ^ 


10.  Erscheine  mir  zum  Schilde, 

Zum  Trost  in  meinem  Tod, 
Und  lass  mich  seh"n  Dein  Bilde 

In  Deiner  Kreuzesnoth. 
Da  will  ich  nach  Dirblicken, 

Da  will  ich  glaubensvoll 
Dieh  fest  an  mein  Ilerz  driicken; 

"Wer  so  stirbt,  der  stirbt  wohl. 


10.  Be  near  when  I  am  dying, 

0  show  Thy  Cross  to  me  ! 
And  for  my  succor  flying. 

Come,  Lord,  to  set  me  free. 
These  eyes  new  faith  receiving 

From  Jesus  shall  not  move; 
For  he  who  dies  believing, 

Dies  safc'y  through  Thy  love. 


^  This  stanza  ^as  substituted  by  the  translator  in  Schafif's  Kirchenfreund 
for  1849,  p.  421,  as  au  improvement  on  his  earlier  translation  {Ibid.,  p.  92), 
which  reads  as  follows  : — 

9.  If  I,  a  wretch,  should  leave  Thee, 

O  Jesus,  leave  not  me  ; 
In  faith  may  I  receive  Thee, 

AYhen  death  shall  set  me  free. 
When  strength  and  comfort  languish, 

And  I  must  hence  depart, 
Release  me  then  from  anguish. 

By  Thine  own  wounded  heart. 


THE  UNIVERSITY:   PAST,  PRESENT,  AND 

FUTURE. 

Including  an  account  of  the  Eighth  Centenary  of  the  University  of  Bologna, 
June,  1888. — An  Address  delivered  before  the  University  of  the  City  of  New 
York  at  the  Celebration  of  Founders'  Day,  April  18th,  1889. 

I.— THE  MEDIEVAL  UNIVERSITY. 

Universities  are  institutions  for  the  cultivation  of  every  branch 
of  knowledge,  human  and  divine,  to  the  highest  attainable 
degree  of  perfection.  They  are  the  centres  of  the  intellectual 
and  literary  life  of  nations,  the  workshops  of  learning  and 
research,  the  nurseries  of  the  men  of  power  and  influence  in  the 
various  professions.  They  receive  the  best  minds  from  all  ranks 
of  society,  and  mould  them  for  public  usefulness. 

These  institutions  originated  in  the  Middle  Ages.  They  were 
partly  an  expansion  of  monastic  and  cathedral  schools,  partly 
independent  foundations.  A  vague  tradition  traces  the  University 
of  Paris  back  to  Charlemagne  in  the  eighth,  and  the  University 
of  Oxford  to  King  Alfred  in  the  ninth,  century.  These  noble 
rulers  were  indeed  lights  shining  in  the  darkness,  the  legislators, 
educators,  and  benefactors  of  Europe  in  that  chaotic  period  of 
transition  from  ancient  to  modern  civilization.  But  universities, 
in  any  proper  sense  of  the  term,  do  not  appear  before  the  close 
of  the  eleventh  or  the  beginning  of  the  twelfth  century.  They 
are  intimately  connected  with  that  remarkable  revival  of  Western 
Christendom  which  reformed  the  papacy,  roused  the  crusades, 
built  the  cathedrals,  founded  the  monastic  orders,  and  produced 
the  scholastic  and  mystic  theology.  They  owe  their  origin  to 
the  enthusiasm  of  scholars.  Emperors,  kings,  popes,  and  cities 
granted  them  charters  and  various  privileges,  but  some  of  them 
were  in  vigorous  existence  before  they  received  governmental 
recognition  and  authority.  They  gradually  grew  from  humble 
rudiments  to  their  present  state  of  completeness,  and  they  are 
still  expanding  with  the  progress  of  knowledge. 
256 


THE   UNIVERSITY  :    PAST,  PRESENT  AND   FUTURE.     257 

The  original  idea  of  a  university  differs  from  that  which  obtains 
at  the  present  time.  It  v/as  not  a  university  of  letters  (universitas 
literarum),  but  a  university  of  teachers  and  students  [univei'sifas 
magistronim  d  scholarium).  The  usual  designation  in  the  thir- 
teenth century  for  such  a  literary  community  was  ^'Study/^  or 
^'  General  Study  '^  (studiam  generah  or  stadium  XLiiiversale).  The 
University  of  Ijologna  was  called  ''  Siudium  Bononice"  or  "Bono- 
n'lensef^  ^  that  of  Paris,  "  Studium  Paridensc;  ^'  tiiat  of  Oxford, 
^' Studium  OxonieiiscJ'  The  addition  ^^ generah^^  had  reference 
likewise  to  scholars,  not  to  different  branches  of  knowledge.  It 
meant  a  centre  of  study  for  all. ^  Some  ''Studies'^  were  only 
for  medicine,  or  law,  or  theology.  But  the  tendency  and  aim  of 
a  mediaeval  university  was  to  provide  for  all  branches  of  learning 
then  attainable,  and  thus  the  name  naturally  passed  from  the 
personal  sense  of  a  body  of  teachers  and  learners  to  the  literary 
sense  of  a  body  of  studies.^  The  designation  of  the  University 
as  " alnia^'  or  'Udnia  mater''  dates  from  the  thirteenth  century. 
The  term  ''faculty''  meant  both  the  body  of  teachers  of  a  particular 
branch  of  knowledo:e,  and  the  science  tauo:ht. 

A  full  university  requires  four  faculties — theology,  philosophy 
(arts),  law,  and  medicine — corresponding  to  the  four  learned  pro- 
fessions. But  some  of  the  best  universities  were  incomplete  for  a 
long  time.  Nearly  one-half  of  them  excluded  theology,  because 
this  was  provided  for  in  the  monastic  and  episcopal  schools. 
On  the  other  hand,  Paris,  where  theology  and  the  canon  law 
were  taught  from  the  beginning,  had  no  provision  for  teaching 
civil  law  from  1219  to  the  seventeenth  century. ^ 

The  philosophical  faculty  embraced  originally  the  seven  liberal 
arts  of  the  Trliium  (grammar,  logic,  and  rhetoric)  and  Qitadrlvium 
(music,  arithmetic,  geometry,  and  astronomy);  but  in  its  modern 

^   The  Italians  still  call  it  Lo  Studio  BoJogncsc. 

2  Comp.  Denifle  :  Die  UnivcrHiUiien  dcs  Miitvlaltcrs  his  1400  (Berlin,  1885), 
Vol.  I.  5  f<'iq.  A  "general"  study  nii^lit  Ije  founded  for  each  separate 
faculty.     Hence  the  phrase  :   "  Vigcat  studium  gcncrale  in  thcolofjica  facuUate.''^ 

^  The  German  emperor,  Frederick  II.,  in  1224,  expressed  the  desire  that 
the  University  of  Naples  sliould  have  "doctors  and  masters  in  every  faculty," 
and  that  "the  studies  of  every  profession  should  llourish."     Denifle,  I.  28. 

4  Denifle,  i.  703. 
17 


258      THE  UNIVERSITY:    PAST,  PRESENT  AND  FUTURE. 

expansion  it  includes  all  branches  of  metaphysical,  linguistic, 
mathematical,  historical,  scientific,  and  other  studies,  which  may 
claim  the  dignity  of  independent  departments. 

Besides  the  literary  division  into  faculties  there  was  a  national 
division,  with  provincial  subdivisions.  The  students  of  Paris 
were  divided  into  the  four  nations  of  France,  Picardy  (including 
the  jN'etherlands),  Normandy,  and  England  (which  in  1430  gave 
place  to  Germany).  They  had  distinct  suffrages  in  the  affairs  of 
the  university.  In  Bologna,  Padua,  and  Vercelli  there  were 
four  ^'  nniversitates/^  composed  of  different  nationalities — Italians, 
English,  Proven§als,  and  Germans.  The  provincial  division  is 
still  kept  up  in  the  Swedish  universities  of  Upsala  and  Lund. 

A  university  formed  a  republic  of  letters,  a  state  Avithin  the 
state,  a  church  within  the  church.  It  had  an  independent  gov- 
ernment and  jurisdiction,  large  endowments  and  privileges, 
granted  by  popes,  kings,  cities,  and  individuals.  An  elective 
rector  or  chancellor  stood  at  the  head  of  the  whole  corporation, 
a  dean  at  the  head  of  each  faculty,  and  each  nation  had  its  pro- 
curator; these  officers  constituted  the  governing  and  executive 
body.  The  academic  senate  embraced  the  ordinary  professors 
of  all  the  faculties  and  was  the  legislative  body. 

Each  faculty  granted  the  license  to  teach,  and  conferred  the 
academic  degrees  of  bachelor,  licentiate  (master),  and  doctor. 
These  degrees  looked  originally  to  public  teaching,  and  marked 
as  many  steps  in  the  promotion  to  this  office.  In  law,  there 
were  doctors  of  civil  law,  and  doctors  of  canon  law.  The  doc- 
torate of  divinity  required  nine  years  of  preparation,  but  is  now 
usually  bestowed  honoris  causa  for  actual  services  rendered  to 
sacred  learning.  The  academic  degrees  conveyed  important 
rights  and  privileges,  and  were  carefully  guarded  and  highly 
esteemed.  This  is  still  the  case  in  all  the  leading  universities 
of  Europe. 

In  our  country  the  lavish  bestowal  of  diplomas  by  several 
hundred  colleges,  the  feeblest  as  well  as  the  strongest,  has  made 
those  dignities  as  numerous  and  as  cheap  as  leaves  in  Yallom- 
brosa.  There  are  more  doctors  of  divinity  in  the  State,  if  not  in 
the  city  of  New  York  alone,  than  in  the  whole  German  Empire, 
which  is  emphatically  the  land  of  learning.     The  only  present 


THE   UNIVERSITY:    PAST,  PRESENT  AND   FUTURE.     259 

remedy  for  this  abuse  is  the  indication  of  the  source  from  which 
the  degree  is  derived.  The  stronger  an  institution,  the  greater 
should  be  the  discrimination  and  care  in  the  distribution  of  these 
honors. 

Italy,  France,  and  England  took  the  lead  in  the  history  of  the 
univer!?itics.  Germany  was  behind  them  till  the  period  of  the 
Relbrmation  ;  but  the  Hohenstaufen  emperors — Frederick  Bar- 
barossa,  and  Frederick  II. — began  the  university  legislation  and 
granted  the  first  charters  to  Italian  universities,  w^iich  took  the 
lead,  especially  in  law  and  medicine.  They  were  followed  by 
Paris  and  Oxford.  In  modern  times  the  German  universities 
are  the  chief  nurseries  of  progressive  learning,  and  attract 
students  from  all  parts  of  the  w^orld. 

The  attendance  of  students  in  the  Middle  Ages  was  larger 
than  in  modern  times,  because  there  were  fewer  universities  and 
libraries.  This  scarcity  made  oral  instruction  all  the  more  valu- 
able. If  one  desired  to  be  taught  by  Abelard  or  Thomas 
Aquinas,  he  must  go  to  Paris.  We  read  that  Bologna  had  at 
one  time  as  many  as  10,000,  Paris  25,000,  and  Oxford  30,000 
scholars.  Abelard  lectured  before  3,000  hearers.  In  like  man- 
ner the  scarcity  of  preaching  and  good  preachers  increased  the 
number  of  hearers.  Berthold  of  Regensburg,  a  Franciscan 
monk  and  revival  preacher  in  the  middle  of  the  thirteenth 
century,  is  reported  to  have  preached  at  times  to  an  audience 
of  60,000.1 

These  figures  are  probably  exaggerated,  but  not  impossible. 
The  time  for  study  was  more  extended.  Men  in  mature  age, 
even  priests,  canons,  and  professors,  often  turned  students  for  a 
season.  The  line  between  teachers  and  learners  was  not  closely 
drawn,  and  both  were  included  in  the  name  of  scholar  or  stu- 
dent (scholaris  or  scholastlcus). 

The  professors  were  called  Doctor ^  Magister,  Dominus.     They 

^  The  largest  number  of  students  for  1887  was  5,357  in  Berlin,  4,893  in 
Vienna,  3,231  in  Leipzig,  3,17G  in  Munich.  Tlie  number  of  professors  (ordi- 
nar}^,  extraordinary,  and  Privatdoceuten)  for  the  same  year  \vas29G  in  Berlin, 
301  in  Vienna,  180  in  Leipzig,  165  in  Munich,  131  in  Breslau,  121  in  Gottin- 
gen,  110  in  Prague.  The  largest  number  of  Italian  students  in  1887  was  in 
the  University  of  Naples  and  reached  4,083. 


260     THE   UXIVERSITY  :    PAST,  PRESENT  AND   FUTURE. 

had  DO  regular  salary,  and  lived  on  lecture  fees  or  private 
means  or  charitable  funds.  Some  were  supported  from  the  royal 
purse  or  private  endowments.  Most  of  them  were  monks 
or  ecclesiastics,  and  had  no  families  to  support.  They  had  no 
common  building,  and  taught  wherever  it  was  most  conve- 
nient, in  colleges,  in  convents,  in  public  halls  or  private  rooms. 
University  buildings,  libraries,  antiquarian  and  artistic  collec- 
tions were  of  slow  growth,  and  the  effects  of  successful  teaching. 
With  us  colleges  often  begin  with  brick  and  mortar,  and  have 
to  wait  for  teachers  and  students.  Brain  produces  brick,  but 
brick  will  not  produce  brain. 

A  papal  bull  was  usually  required  for  a  university.^  Every 
doctor  and  public  teacher  of  theology  was  sworn  to  defend  the 
Scriptures  and  the  faith  of  the  holy  Roman  Catholic  Church. 
Luther  took  that  oath.  Paris,  Louvain,  and  Cologne  condemned 
him  as  a  heretic. 

Yet  from  the  universities  proceeded,  in  spite  of  papal  prohibi- 
tions and  excommunications,  the  intellectual  and  ecclesiastical 
revolutions  of  modern  times.  The  last  mediaeval  university — 
Wittenberg — became  the  first  Protestant  university.  Heidel- 
berg, Leipzig,  Tubingen,  Oxford,  and  Cambridge,  once  among 
the  chief  nurseries  of  scholastic  theology  and  Roman  orthodoxy, 
have  long  since  transferred  their  loyalty  and  zeal  to  a  different 
creed.  The  oldest  Scotch  university — St.  Andrews — founded 
for  the  defence  of  the  Roman  Catholic  faith,  became  a  bulwark 
of  the  Reformation,  so  that  the  phrase  "  to  drink  from  St. 
Leonard's  well"  (one  of  the  colleges  of  St.  Andrews)  was 
equivalent  to  imbibing  the  doctrines  of  Calvin.  Almost  every 
new  school  of  theological  thought,  and  every  great  ecclesi- 
astical movement  were  born  or  nursed  in  some  university. 

Salerno  is  the  oldest  university  so  called  ;  it  dates  from  the 
ninth  century,  but  never  acquired  general  influence,  and  was 
confined  to  the  study  of  medicine.  In  1231  it  was  constituted 
by  the  Emperor  Frederick  II.  as  the  only  school  of  medicine  in 
the  kingdom  of  Naples,  but  was  subsequently  overshadowed  by 

^  This  media3val  custom  has  long  since  ceased  in  Europe,  l)ut  has  l)een 
renewed  in  our  country  hy  Pope  Leo  XIII.,  in  chartering  tlie  Catholic  uni- 
versity in  the  citvof  Washinizton,  which  was  dedicated  November  13,  1889. 


THE   UNIVEKSITY:    PAST,  PRESENT  AND   FUTURE.     261 

the  University  of  Naples,  which  had  likewise  a  medical  faculty. 
It  has  long  since  ceased  to  exist. 

The  oldest  surviving,  and  at  the  same  time  most  important, 
universities  of  the  Middle  Ages  are  those  of  Bologna,  Paris,  and 
Oxford. 

The  total  number  of  mediaeval  universities,  founded  before 
A.D.  1500,  amounts  to  about  sixty.  They  were  Roman  Cath- 
olic in  religion.  Most  of  them  still  survive,  but  have  under- 
gone many  changes.  The  universities  which  date  from  the  last 
three  centuries  are  chiefly  Protestant,  or  purely  scientific  and  lit- 
erary. Germany  heads  the  list  with  twenty-two  universities, 
which  include  all  the  four  or  five  faculties;  France  has  probably 
as  many,  but  some  are  incomplete  as  to  the  number  of  faculties; 
Italy  has  twenty-one;  Spain,  ten;  Austria-Hungary,  seven; 
Switzerland,  six;  Holland,  five;  Belgium,  four;  England, 
three;  Scotland,  four;  Ireland,  two;  Sweden,  two;  Norway, 
one;  Denmark,  one;  Portugal,  one;  Greece,  one.  The  nine 
Russian  universities  are  all  of  modern  date,  and  profess  the 
Greek  religion;  but  Dorpat  has  a  Lutheran  faculty  of  theology, 
which  is  taught  in  the  German  language. 

Colleges  are  not  to  be  confounded  with  universities,  as  is  often 
the  case  in  our  country.  They  were  originally  charitable  insti- 
tutions for  poor  students,  called  ^^ bursars''  {hursier,  hence  the 
German  Burschen),  wdio  lived  together  under  the  supervision  of 
masters.  Canon  Robert  de  Sorbon,  chaplain  and  confessor  of 
Louis  IX.,  endowed  such  a  monastic,  beneficiary  college  in  Paris 
(1274),  which  was  called  after  him  the  Sorbonne  (Sorbona) — a 
name  often  incorrectly  given  to  the  theological  faculty  or  even  to 
the  whole  University  of  Paris. 

On  the  Continent,  colleges  or  gymnasia  are  subordinate  and 
preparatory  to  the  university,  and  cannot  confer  degrees.  In 
England,  on  the  contrary,  the  colleges  have  absorbed  the  univer- 
sity, and  constitute  the  university.  In  Oxford,  Cambridge,  and 
Durham  the  several  colleges  and  halls  have  separate  endow- 
ments, buildings,  libraries,  and  corps  of  teachers,  retain  the  dor- 
mitory system  and  instruction  by  masters  and  tutors  or  fellows, 
and  enforce  attendance  upon  the  daily  devotions  in  the  chapel. 
The  American  college  and  university  system  is  built  on  the  Eng- 


262     THE  UXIYERSITY:    PAST,  PRESENT  AND  FUTURE. 

lisli  rather  than  the  Continental  model^  but  boldly  ventures  on 
all  sorts  of  new  experiments,  some  of  which  will  fail,  while  others 
will  succeed. 

II.— THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  BOLOGNA.  ^ 
Bologna  (Bonouia),  a  beautiful  old  city  on  the  northern  slope 
of  the  Apennines,  which  formerly  belonged  to  the  Papal  States 
(from  1513  to  1860),  but  now  to  the  United  Kingdom  of  Italy, 
derives  her  fame  chiefly  from  the  university,  which  is  the  oldest 
in  existence.  Tradition  traces  its  origin  back  to  the  reign  of 
Theodosius  II.,  in  425;  but  there  is  no  evidence  of  Its  existence 
before  the  close  of  the  eleventh  or  the  beo^innino-  of  the  twelfth 
century,  when  Irnerius,  a  native  of  Bologna,  discovered  and 
expounded  in  that  city  the  Civil  Code  of  Justinian.  He  is 
called  the  Restorer  and  Expounder  of  Roman  jurisprudence.^ 
He  was  in  the  service  of  the  Emperor  Henry  V.,  as  counsellor, 
between  1116  and  1118,  and  died  before  1130.^ 

Shortly  after  him,  Gratian,  a  Camalduenslan  monk,  taught  the 
canon  law  in  the  Convent  of  St.  Felix  in  Bologna,  and  published 
in  1150  the  famous  Decretum  Gratiani,  which  was  adopted  as  a 
text-book  in  all  universities.  The  Decretum — or,  as  he  called 
it,  "  the  Concordance  of  Discordant  Canons,'^  Is  a  systematic  and 
harmonlstic  collection  of  canons  of  ancient  councils  and  papal 
decretals,  based  upon  older  collections,  and  explained  by  glosses. 
It  forms  the  first  part  of  the  Corpus  juris  canonicl,  or  catholic 
church  law,  which  was  gradually  enlarged  by  synodical  decrees 
and  papal  bulls  to  its  present  dimensions. 

Thus  we  find  In  Bologna  before  the  middle  of  the  twelfth  cen- 

^  The  best  accounts  of  the  University  of  Bologna  during  the  ]Middle  Ages, 
with  special  reference  to  the  study  of  the  Roman  Luv,  are  given  by  Professor 
Fr.  Carl  von  Savigny  in  the  third  volume  of  his  great  German  work  on  the 
Hi  story  of  the  Roman  Law,  pp.  159-272  (2d  ed.,  1834-1851,  7  vols.),  and  by 
Giacomo  Cassani  (formerly  Professor  of  Canon  Law  in  Bologna),  in  DcJVanileo 
studio  di  Bolofjna  e  sua  origine,  Bologna,  1888.  Much  information  may  also  be 
obtained  from  works  on  the  canon  law,  and  from  the  publications  issued  in 
commemoration  of  the  eighth  centenary  of  the  university,  which  are  men- 
tioned in  the  appendix  to  this  address. 

2   "  Seicntix  legalis  iUuminator 

^  Von  Savigny  treats  very  fully  of  Irnerius  in  his  GcscJiichte  dcs  romischoi 
Ecchts,  Vol.  IV.  y-G7  (2d  ed.,  1850). 


THE   UNIVERSITY :    PAST,  PRESENT  AND  FUTURE.     263 

tiiry  two  law  schools.  The  teachers  of  the  Roman,  or  civil,  law 
were  called  Legalists;  the  teachers  of  the  canou  law,  Cauouists 
or  Decretists. 

The  Emperor  Frederick  I.,  called  Barbarossa,  on  a  visit  to 
Bologna,  on  Whitsunday,  1155,  took  these  schools  under  his  pro- 
tection and  gave  them  the  first  university  charter/ 

In  1158  he  extended  the  privileges  at  the  Diet  of  Roncaglia, 
at  which  four  professors  of  law  from  Bologna  were  present,  to 
other  schools  of  Italy,  and  secured  imperial  protection  to  scholars 
on  their  journeys.^ 

From  this  time  Bologna  was  the  greatest  law  school,  the  nurse 
of  jurisprudence  {legum  nutrlx),  and  could  proudly  adopt  the 
device  :  '^  Bononia  docetj' 

Students  flocked  to  her  from  all  countries  and  nationalities  of 
Europe  by  hundreds  and  thousands.  In  the  fourteenth  century 
she  had  four  faculties — two  for  law  (civil  and  ecclesiastical),  one 
for  medicine,  one  for  theology.  The  liberal  arts  were  also  taught. 
The  double  faculty  of  law  continued  to  be  the  most  important. 
Six  years  were  required  for  a  full  course  in  canon  law,  eight 
years  in  civil  law. 

The  influence  which  the  Roman  law  and  the  canon  law  have 
exerted  on  the  civilization  of  Europe  down  to  the  present  time 
is  simply  incalculable.  It  surpasses  the  influence  of  the  arms  of 
pagan  Rome.  The  power  of  law  is  silent,  but  deep,  constant, 
pervasive.  It  touches  society  at  every  point  and  accompanies 
human  life  from  the  cradle  to  the  grave.  Conquered  by  the 
barbarians,  Rome  in  turn  conquered  their  descendants,  and  by 
substituting  the  law  for  the  sword  she  once  more  ruled  the  world 
for  centuries,  mindful  of  the  prophetic  line  of  Virgil : — 

"  Tu,  regere  imperio  popidos,  Romaiie,  memento.^' 

But  the  Roman  and  the  canon  law,  like  heathen  Rome  and 
the  Roman  papacy,  became  in  course  of  time  an  intolerable  yoke 
which  independent  nations  would  no  longer  bear,  and  gradually 

^  See  a  historical  poem  ou  Frederick  I.,  discovered  aud  first  published  by 
Giesebrecht  in  1879,  aud  the  remarks  of  Deuifle,  J.  c,  i.  49  sqq. 

2  ''  Omnibus  qui  causa  siudioruni  pcregrinantur,  scolaribus  ct  maxime  divina- 
rum  atque  sacrarum  legum  prof essorihus.''^ 


264    THE  UNIVERSITY:    PAST,  PRESENT  AND  FUTURE. 

shook  off.  When  Luther  threw  the  papal  bull  of  excommunica- 
tion into  the  flames,  answering  fire  by  fire,  he  also  burnt  the 
canon  law  with  its  cruel  enactments  against  heretics.  Abuses 
were  abolished,  what  is  good  will  remain. 

Bologna  is  still  one  of  the  best  law  schools,  but  since  the 
last  century  she  has  chiefly  cultivated  physical,  medical,  and 
mathematical  sciences.  She  has  chairs  for  almost  every  depart- 
ment of  knowledge,  except  theology.  She  has  rich  antiquarian 
and  scientific  collections,  and  one  of  the  finest  libraries,  over 
which  once  the  famous  Cardinal  jNIezzofanti  presided,  who  could 
familiarly  converse  with  every  visitor  in  his  own  language  and 
dialect.  As  to  attendance,  Bologna  stands  third  among  the 
twenty-one  universities  of  the  kingdom  of  Italy  ;  the  number 
of  her  students  from  1887-^88  was  1,338,  that  of  Turin  2,102 
and  that  of  Naples  4,083.^ 

An  original  and  romantic  feature  of  the  University  of  Bologna, 
is  the  admission  of  learned  ladies  to  the  corps  of  teacliers. 
Properzia  de  Eossi,  of  Bologna  (d.  1530),  was  a  skilful  sculptor 
and  musknan,  and  acquired  fame  by  her  cameos  of  peach-stones, 
and  her  masterpiece,  '^  Joseph  rejecting  the  Overtures  of  Poti- 
phar's  Wife.^'  Laura  Bassi  was  doctor  and  professor  of  philo- 
sophy and  mathematics  in  her  native  city  (d.  1778).  Madame 
Manzolina  lectured  on  anatomy.  Maria  Gaetana  Agnesi  was  a 
prodigy  of  linguistic  and  mathematical  learning,  and  filled  the 
chair  of  her  father,  who  was  professor  in  Bologna ;  after  his 
death  she  retired  to  a  nunnery  (d.  1799).  Clotilda  Tambroni,  a 
Bolognese  by  birth,  expounded  the  Greek  classics  from  1794  to 
1817.  Miss  Giuseppina  Cattani  is  at  this  time  a  popular  lec- 
turer on  pathology  and  a  noted  contributor  to  medical  journals. 

^  The  University  Calendar  for  1887-'88  {Annuario  della  regia  Universitd  di 
Bologna)  mentions  tlie  departments  of  the  University  in  the  following  order  : 
facoUd  di  letter e  e  fdosojia  ;  f.  di  scienze  maicmcdicJie,  fibieJte  e  ncdurali;  f.  di 
giurit<prudcnza  (without  a  professorship  for  canon  law)  ;  /.  medico  -  eh  Irur g  ica  ; 
scuola  di  fannacia;  scuola  superiore  di  medicina  veterinaria ;  scuola  d^ipplica- 
zione  2)er  gli  ingegncri ;  scuola  di  magidero.  The  Calendar  (pp.  211-255)  gives 
a  chronological  list  of  rectors  and  vice-rectors  from  Joannes  de  Varanis^  1244, 
to  (jricnanni  Cajjellini,  1888.  The  theological  faculty  and  the  professorship 
of  canon  law  seem  to  have  been  abolished  when  Bologna  ceased  to  be  a  papal 
city.  Giacomo  Cassani  was  the  last  professor  of  canon  law,  and  is  now  pro- 
fessor emeritus. 


THE   UXIVEKSITY:    TAST,  PRESENT  AND   FUTURE.     265 

One  of  the  earliest  of  these  learned  lady  professors,  Novella 
d'Audrea  (d.  1366),  was  distinguished  for  beauty  as  well  as 
learning,  and  used  to  lecture  from  behind  a  curtain, 

"  Lest  the  students 
Sliould  let  tlieir  yi)uiig  e3"es  wander  o'er  lier 
And  quite  forget  tlieir  jurispi-udence." 

III.— THE  BOLOGNA  FESTIVAL. 

In  the  summer  of  1888,  the  University  of  Bologna  celebrated 
its  eight  hundredth  anniversary.  It  was  the  literary  event  of 
that  year,  and  marks  an  epoch  in  the  history  of  that  institu- 
tion. 

I  had  the  honor  to  represent  your  University  as  a  delegate. 
The  dignity  of  that  position  might  have  been  more  befittingly 
assigned  to  a  scholar  eminent  in  jurisprudence  or  natural  sci- 
ence, than  to  a  theologian.  But  the  duties  were  light,  and  I 
discharged  them  to  the  best  of  my  ability.  Two  years  before 
I  had  attended  the  celebration  of  the  fifth  centenary  of  the  Uni- 
versity of  Heidelberg,  the  oldest  in  Germany  (for  the  older  Uni- 
versities of  Prague  and  Vienna  are  in  Austria),  and  I  shall 
ever  remember  these  two  visits  as  among  the  most  pleasant  and 
interesting  episodes  in  my  life. 

The  Bologna  celebration  occupied  three  days,  June  11th,  12th, 
and  13th.  It  was  supplemented,  on  the  14th,  by  a  commemora- 
tion of  Luigi  Galvani,  the  discoverer  of  animal  magnetism,  who 
was  born  at  Bologna  and  professor  of  anatomy  in  its  university. 

The  festival  was  honored  by  an  imposing  galaxy  of  about 
three  hundred  and  fifty  academic  dignitaries,  and  by  the  pres- 
ence of  their  Majesties,  King  Umberto  and  Queen  Margherita, 
and  their  only  son,  the  Crown  Prince  of  Italy.  Nearly  every 
university  of  Europe  sent  its  Rector  Magnificus,  or  a  distin- 
guished professor  of  law  or  of  science.  Several  American  insti- 
tutions besides  your  own  University — Harvard,  Yale,  Princeton, 
Hartford,  Johns  Hopkins,  Cornell,  Columbia,  the  Universities 
of  Pennsylvania,  Virginia,  Michigan,  Iowa,  and  AVisconsin,  the 
Smithsonian  Institute,  the  American  Academy  of  Sciences, — were 
directly  or  indirectly  (some,  however,  only  nominally  or  collec- 
tively) represented.    Even  Buenos  Ayres,  and  Santiago  of  South 


266     THE   UNIVERSITY  :    PAST,  PRESENT  AND   FUTURE. 

America,  Bombay  of  Asia,  Adelaide  and  Sydney  of  Australia, 
took  part  by  delegates.  The  students'  societies  of  several  uni- 
versities sent  large  deputations,  recognizable  by  their  different 
colors  and  badges,  and  contributed  much  to  the  joy  and  cheer  of 
the  feast.  The  European  delegates  appeared,  as  is  customary  on 
such  occasions,  in  their  academic  gowns  with  hoods,  golden 
chains,  and  decorations,  and  presented  a  picturesque  mediaeval 
spectacle.  The  American  delegates  (with  the  exce])tion  of  two 
distinguished  gentlemen  who  wore  Oxford  gowns)  were  con- 
spicuous by  tlie  absence  of  ornaments,  and  found  compensation 
in  the  modest  charm  of  republican  simplicity.  I  doubt  whether 
there  ever  has  been  such  a  numerous  and  brilliant  gathering  of 
professors  and  students,  except  at  the  fifth  centennial  celebration 
of  the  University  of  Heidelberg  in  1886,  which  lasted  a  wliole 
week,  and  had  the  special  attractions  of  an  illumination  of  the 
celebrated  castle,  and  of  a  historic  procession  enacting  the  man- 
ners and  customs  of  past  generations. 

On  the  morning  of  the  first  day  the  King  and  Queen  arrived 
from  Rome  and  were  received  with  the  heartiest  demonstrations 
of  joy.  They  gave  to  the  eighth  centenary  a  national  and 
patriotic  character.  It  was  a  celebration  of  united  and  free 
Italy  fully  as  much  as  a  literary  festival.  Every  patriotic  allu- 
sion met  with  enthusiastic  response.  The  whole  population  was 
in  sympathy,  and  manifested  it  again  and  again  with  dramatic 
demonstrativeness.  It  was  made  very  manifest  that  the  citizens 
of  Bologna,  who  took  a  prominent  part  in  the  liberation  of  Italy, 
are  not  willing  to  take  their  politics  from  the  pope  of  Rome, 
whatever  they  may  think  of  his  religion.  The  attempt  at  the 
restoration  of  the  temporal  power  of  the  papacy  will  nowhere 
find  stronger  resistance  than  in  Roman  Catholic  Italy.  The 
clergy  of  Bologna  showed  their  indifi'erence  or  hostility  by  their 
absence  from  the  festivities  and  by  preventing  the  use  of  the 
historic  Church  of  San  Petronio,  where  academic  promotions 
formerly  took  ])lace,  and  where  Charles  V.  was  crowned  emperor 
by  Pope  Clement  VIL,  the  only  German  emperor  crowned 
outside  of  Rome,  and  the  last  German  emperor  crowned  by  a 
pope. 

On   the  morning   of   Monday,   the   11th,   the  deputies   were 


THE   UNIVERSITY:    TAST,  PRESENT   AND   FUTURE.     267 

received  by  the  Sindaco  of  Bologna,  in  the  magnificent  library 
hall  of  the  old  university,  the  Archiginnasio. 

The  first  public  act  of  the  festival  took  place  in  the  afternoon, 
and  accorded  with  its  patriotic  character.  The  equestrian  statue 
of  Victor  Emmanuel  IT.,  the  first  king  of  united  Italy  and  the 
model  Italian  gentleman,  was  unveiled  by  his  son  amidst  the 
unbounded  enthusiasm  of  the  spectators,  who  occu])ied  every 
inch  of  ground.  The  statue  stands  in  the  centre  of  the  large 
place  of  the  Church  of  San  Petronio,  and  presents  the  King  in 
military  posture,  giving  command  to  the  army. 

In  the  evening  the  Queen  gave  a  brilliant  reception  in  the 
palace.  She  is  a  highly  accomplished  lady,  full  of  grace  and 
beauty,  and  had  a  pleasant  word  to  say  to  every  delegate  pre- 
sented to  her,  in  his  own  language.  The  King  also  made  a  happy 
impression  by  his  courtesy,  affability,  and  kindly  manner.  He 
is  an  enlightened  and  liberal  monarch,  has  the  welfare  of  his 
people  at  heart,  and  well  deserves  his  popularity. 

Tuesday,  the  12th,  was  the  great  day  of  the  feast.  The  repre- 
sentatives of  Italian,  German,  French,  Spanish,  Dutch,  Portu- 
guese, English,  Scotch,  Irish,  Austrian,  Hungarian,  Scandina- 
vian, Russian,  Swiss,  and  American  universities,  together  with 
the  professors  and  directors  of  Bologna  University,  the  digni- 
taries of  the  city,  and  a  very  large  train  of  students  in  every 
variety  of  costume  and  color,  marched  in  procession  from  the 
new  university  building  to  the  old.  The  streets  were  lined  and 
the  windows  crowded  with  people,  cheering  the  strangers,  and 
coverino;  them  with  laurels  and  flowers.  Prominent  amono;  the 
cheers  was  ^^  Evviv^a  Germania !  " — in  view  of  the  political 
alliance  of  the  two  nations,  and  the  personal  friendship  of  their 
rulers. 

In  the  crowd  of  spectators  I  saw,  for  the  last  time.  Father 
Gavazzi,  a  Bolognese,  who  in  1848 — with  Bassi,  his  friend  and 
fellow-Barnabite  friar — so  fired  the  heart  of  his  fellow-townsmen 
by  his  dramatic  eloquence,  on  the  square  before  the  Church  of 
San  Petronio,  that  men  and  women  in  large  numbers  were  seen 
emptying  their  purses,  and  laying  their  watches,  chains,  and  ear- 
rings at  his  feet  as  an  offering  to  the  cause  of  Italian  unity  and 


268     THE  UNIVEESITY  :    PAST,  PRESENT  AND   FUTURE. 

liberty.  The  venerable  octogenarian  lived  to  see  the  triumph  of 
tlie  cause  to  which  he  had  devoted  lils  life,  and  his  face  was 
beaming  with  joy  and  gratitude.^ 

Arrived  in  the  cortUe  of  the  Archiglnnasio,  the  guests  were 
seated  according  to  their  nationality.  The  ladies  occupied  the 
galleries,  and  shone  in  all  the  ornaments  of  personal  beauty, 
flowers,  and  precious  stones. 

After  a  while,  King  Humbert,  the  Queen,  and  the  youthful 
prince  and  heir  to  tlie  throne  arrived  amidst  deafening  accla- 
mations and  took  their  seats,  on  an  elevated  tribune  in  the  centre 
of  the  back  wall,  under  a  baldachin.  They  followed  the  festivi- 
ties with  unwearied  attention  to  the  close. 

The  picture  of  the  whole  assembly  beggars  description.  The 
cortile  of  the  Archlginnasio  is  a  magnificent  square  court,  sur- 
rounded by  four  rows  of  columns.  It  was  now  decorated  with 
artistic  taste,  and  filled  as  never  before  with  living  representa- 
tives of  the  highest  institutions  of  learning  from  every  clime 
under  the  sun,  forming  a  literary  cosmos  in  festal  array.  I  was 
reminded  of  Goethe's  minstrel,  who,  "  'un  Saal  voll  Pracht  und 
HerrUchkeit^^^  exclaimed : — 

Gegriisset  seid  mir,  edle  Ilerrn^ 

Gegriisst  ihr^  schone  Damen  ! 
Welch  rcicher  Iluninel!     Stern  hci.  Stern  ! 

^Yer  kennet  Hire  Namen  V 

The  ceremonies  were  introduced  by  the  musical  performance 
of  an  ode  of  Enrico  Panzacchi,  set  to  tune  by  Baron  Alberto 
Franchettl.     It  begins  with  this  verse : — 

"  Entra.     Da  qiicd  tu  venga 
Putggia  Jonginqua  e  strana, 
Sotto  la  santa  visegna., 
Delia  ,scienza  mnana^ 
Entra^  o  cult  or  del  Vero, 
Qui  tu  non  sci straniero.^'' 

Mrs.  Professor  Vincenzo  Botta — a  name  as  well  known  in 
Italy  as  in  America — has  kindly  favored  me  with  a  free  and 
happy  reproduction  of  this  Ode  of  Welcome  : — 

1  Gavazzi  died  since,  January  9th,  1889,  at  Rome, — with  the  wish  to  l)e 
called  ou  his  tomb  what  he  truly  was,  "  Fairiotia  Cristiano.^- 


THE   UNIVERSITY:    PAST,  PRESENT  AND   FUTURE.     269 

"  Stranger  from  far  off  lands, 
Who  dost  to  Science  bow, 
A  '.vorshiper  of  Truth, 
No  stranger  here  art  thou. 

"Trutli,  Science,  wondrous  power, 
Who  can  thy  Hniits  staj^ 
Or  dim  tlie  lustrous  beams 
Of  thy  new  risen  day? 

"  Speed  on  thy  winged  thought, 
Tiiy  war  with  darkness  wage. 
Till  all  the  sorrowing  race 
Shall  hail  a  happier  age. 

"Speak,  0  eternal  Word, 

And  rend  blind  Error's  chain. 
Till,  over  earth  redeemed, 

Love,  Truth,  and  Justice  reign." 

Signer  Paolo  Boselli,  the  Minister  of  Public  Instruction,  read, 
in  behalf  of  the  King  and  the  Government,  an  eloquent  Address 
of  Welcome,  in  which  he  sketched  the  history  of  the  university, 
not  forgetting  the  learned  lady  professors,  and  closed  with  a 
glance  at  the  recent  regeneration  of  Italy. 

IN^ext  followed  an  Address  by  Professor  Giovanni  Capellini,  a 
distinguished  geologist,  who  had  the  good  fortune  to  be  Rector 
in  that  memorable  year.  He  read  an  Italian  translation  of  a 
letter  of  congratulation  from  the  death-bed  of  Emperor  Fred- 
erick III., — probably  his  last  public  document.  As  crown  prince 
lie  had  attended  the  semi-millennial  celebration  of  theHeidelbero^ 
University  in  the  name  of  his  venerable  father,  the  first  Emperor 
of  United  Germany.  I  w^ell  remember  how  intelligently  lie 
advocated,  in  his  opening  address,  the  progress  of  every  branch 
of  liberal  learning,  and  with  what  ease  and  grace  he  conversed, 
in  the  illuminated  castle,  with  the  academic  delegates  in  their 
own  language.  He  was  then  in  blooming  health  and  the  very 
type  of  manly  beauty  and  strength,  without  a  symptom  of  that 
terrible  disease  which  was  to  terminate  his  life  a  few  weeks  after 
ascending  the  throne  of  Prussia  and  the  German  empire.^ 

^  I  may  be  permitted  liere  to  make  pn]>lic  two  incidental  private  remarks 
"which  are  highly  favorable  to  his  character.  He  inquired,  during  the  festival 
of  August  1866,  at  the  castle  of  Heidelberg,  very  kindly  after  his  former  tutor, 


270    THE   UXIVEKSITY:    PAST,  PRESENT  AND  FUTUKE. 

His  letter  to  Bologna  University  is  singularly  appropriate, 
and  will  be  engraved  on  a  marble  table  in  the  University : — 

' '  With  lively  sj^mpathy  I  accompany  the  celebration  of  the  University  of 
Bologna  and  the  inspiring  reminiscences  which  its  eighth  centenary  awakens 
for  Germany.  I  gladly  recall  the  ancient  relations  which  bound  Germany 
to  your  University.  They  began  seven  hundred  years  ago  with  the  charter 
of  the  Emperor  Frederick  Barbarossa,  and  were  continued  by  a  stream  of 
innumerable  sons  of  Germany,  who  crossed  the  Alps  to  be  illuminated  in 
the  newly  revived  science  of  jurisprudence,  and  to  bring  home  to  their 
fatherland  the  creations  of  classical  antiquity.  In  Bologna  the  seeds  were 
sown  from  which  the  legal  culture  of  Germany  has  derived  nourishment  to 
this  day,  and  the  institutions  of  your  University  served  as  a  model  for  the 
academic  freedom  of  the  German  Universities. 

Mindful  of  the  debt  which  Germany  owes  to  the  renowned  University 
of  Bologna,  I  send  to  her,  for  the  memorable  festival,  blessing  and  greet- 
ing :  May  she  in  united  Italy  ever  remain  true  to  her  honorable  title  in 
science  and  culture,  Bononia  docem!    (Signed)     Friedrich  Imp.  Bex. 

Scldoss  FriedrlcJisJcron,  June  6th,  18S8:' 

The  great  festive  Oration  was  intrusted  to  Giosue  Carducci, 
ordinary  Professor  in  the  Faculty  of  Letters  and  Philoso})hy, 
the  first  living  poet  of  Italy,  and  since  1861  the  founder  of  a 
flourishing  school  of  Italian  literary  history.  It  was  a  most  elo- 
quent composition  in  the  purest  Italian,  pervaded  by  the  glow 
of  patriotism,  and  delivered  with  an  animation  and  earnestness 
that  kept  the  audience  spell-bound  to  the  close.  It  was  largely 
historical,  and  dwelt  upon  the  influence  which  Bologna,  by  teach- 
ing the  civil  and  the  canon  law,  exercised  in  civilizing  and 
Romanizing  the  barbarians  of  Europe, — an  influence  greater  and 
more  beneficent  than  the  conquests  of  the  Roman  eagles.  From 
Rome,  the  fountain  of  law,  he  said,  Italy  derived  her  best  gifts. 
New  Italy,  as  Giuseppe  Mazzini  saw,  requires  as  its  centre  a 

my  friend  and  fellow-stndent,  Dr.  Frederic  Godet  of  Nenchatel,  the  well  known 
divine  and  biblical  commentator,  and  gave  free  expression  to  his  gratel'ul 
attachment  and  regard  for  him.  He  carried  on  a  familiar  correspondence  with 
him  to  the  last,  and  Godet  showed  me  several  of  his  letters.  A  year  before,  iu 
August  1885,  I  saw  the  emperor,  then  crown  prince,  at  Andermatt  in  Switzer- 
land, where  he  spent  the  summer  with  his  family.  He  attended  the  worship 
of  tlie  Church  of  England  in  a  little  room  opposite  the  hotel,  and  folloAved 
the  service  very  devoutly.  The  sermon  was  rather  dull  and  empty  ;  but  he 
listened  attentively  and  said  to  me  afterwards  :  "Never  mind  the  sermon; 
the 2Jm^er,s  are  always  beautiful ;  I  like  the  Episcopal  service." 


THE  UNIVEESITY  :    PAST,  PRESENT  AND   FUTURE.     271 

third  Rome,  which  is  not  aristocratic,  not  imperial,  not  papal, 
but  democratic  and  Italian.  This  third  Rome  we  owe  to  the 
sacrifices,  the  prisons,  the  battle-fields,  the  parliaments  of  the 
last  and  present  generation.  He  wound  up  with  a  eulogy  of 
Victor  Emmanuel  II.,  wdio  lies  buried  in  the  Pantheon  of  Rome, 
and  left  to  his  son  the  task  of  guarding  the  Eternal  City  as  an 
inalienable  conquest.  Tiie  conclusion  elicited  an  uproarious 
applause.  The  royal  mL\jesties  pressed  the  hand  of  the  orator 
with  grateful  emotion. 

Tiien  followed  the  interesting  ceremony  of  presentations  and 
congratulations.  The  academic  deputations,  divided  into  groups 
according  to  their  nationalities  in  alphabetical  order,  approached 
one  after  another  the  royal  tribune, — the  Euro})eans  in  their 
academic  ornaments,  the  Americans  in  their  dress-coats  and 
white  cravats.  They  were  presented  by  the  Rector  to  the  King 
and  Queen,  deposited  their  credentials  and  memorial  gifts,  and 
received  in  return  a  royal  smile  of  thanks.  Each  nation  was 
allowed  one  speaker,  and  each  speaker  three  minutes.  The 
Americans  selected  the  Hon.  James  Russell  Lowell,  who  could 
have  so  well  represented  American  literature  and  statesmanship 
in  elegant  Italian  ;  but,  as  he  was  sick  on  that  day,  Professor  W. 
W.  Story,  the  famous  sculptor,  and  for  many  years  a  resident  of 
Rome,  was  requested  to  express  the  compliments  of  young 
America  to  venerable  Bologna,  which  he  did  in  a  few  well- 
chosen  Italian  sentences.  As  the  son  and  biographer  of  Judge 
Joseph  Story,  of  the  Siipreme  Court  of  the  United  States,  who 
was  also  professor  of  law  in  Harvard  College,  he  represented  at 
the  same  time  American  jurisprudence.  All  the  speeches  were 
in  Italian,  except  one  in  French,  and  one  in  Greek. 

Professor  Gaudino  concluded  the  ceremony  by  an  Address  of 
Thanks  in  Ciceronian  Latin. 

At  six  o'clock  the  Government  of  the  Province  of  Bologna 
gave  a  banquet,  and  at  nine  o'clock  the  delegates  were  invited 
to  listen  to  \yagner's  music  (''Tristan  and  Isolde")  in  the 
theatre.  Bologna  is  at  present  the  seat  of  Italian  enthusiasm  for 
Wagner. 

On  the  13th  of  June  the  literary  honors  were  distributed  to 
a  number  of  the  most  celebrated  jurists  and  scientists  of  the 


272     THE   UNIVERSITY:    PAST,  PRESENT   AND   FUTURE. 

age,  in  the  same  locality  and  before  the  same  audience.  Those 
present  received  the  diplomas  in  person  from  the  hands  of  the 
Rector. 

The  festivities  were  concluded  by  a  learned  and  able  Address 
of  Giuseppe  Ceneri,  Professor  of  the  Roman  Law,  which  once 
was  the  great  title  of  the  glory  of  Bologna.  He  looked  forward 
to  a  universal  reign  of  liberty,  justice  and  peace  {liherta,  g'mstiziay 
pace).  The  address  was  delivered  with  consummate  oratorical 
art,  and  elicited  as  much  applause  as  the  oration  of  Canlucci  on 
the  previous  day. 

Thus  ended  the  Ottavo  Centenario  dello  Studio  Bolognese  sotto 
Valto  patronato  di  S.  M.  Umberto  /.,  R^  d' Italia. 

One  dark  cloud  was  cast  over  the  assembly  as  it  was  about  to 
disperse.  Telegrams  were  received  announcing  that  the  Emperor 
of  Germany,  after  unspeakable  sufferings  borne  without  a  mur- 
mur, was  dying.  The  King  of  Italy,  his  personal  friend  and 
political  ally,  was  moved  to  tears,  and  departed  without  delay  in 
a  special  train.  The  German  professors  hurried  home  to  learn 
on  the  way  that  their  beloved  Emperor,  from  whom  so  much  was 
expected  ibr  the  liberal  progress  of  the  Fatherland,  had  ended 
his  short,  sad  reign  of  three  months,  leaving  a  nation  to  mourn 
his  loss,  and  a  world  to  drop  a  tear  on  his  grave.  The  news- 
papers were  dressed  in  mourning.  The  expressions  of  sorrow 
were  sincere  and  universal ;  even  the  leading  papers  of  France, 
forgetting  Weissenburg  and  Sedan,  spoke  generously  of  the  per- 
sonal qualities  and  liberal  views  of  the  departed  monarch.  In 
Italy,  Frederick  III.  had  spent,  as  crown-prince,  the  early 
months  of  his  fatal  sickness,  and  received  a  visit  from  the  King. 
To  Bologna  he  had  sent  his  last  public  greeting  and  blessing. 

Much  as  the  Germans  and  Italians  differ  in  their  national 
traits,  their  political  fortunes  have  been  closely  interwoven,  for 
good  and  for  evil,  from  the  time  when  Pope  Leo  III.  crowned 
Charlemagne  in  St.  Peter's  in  Rome,  to  the  time  when  Clement 
VII.  conferred  the  same  crown  upon  Charles  \.  in  the  Church 
of  San  Petronio  in  Bologna.  But,  while  the  mediDeval  history 
of  Germany  and  Italy  was  a  history  of  conflict  between  the 
Papacy  and  the  Empire,  each  despotic  and  each  aspiring  after 


THE   UNIVERSITY:    PAST,  PRESENT  AND  FUTURE.     273 

supremacy,  their  modern  history  is  a  successful  struggle  for 
national  unity  and  liberty.  They  were  closely  allied  for  this 
purpose.  At  the  head  of  both  nations  in  this  momentous  crisis 
stood  the  greatest  statesmen,  the  greatest  soldiers,  and  the  great- 
est monarchs  of  the  age.  Germany  had  her  Bismarck,  her 
Moltke,  and  her  William  I. ;  Italy  had  her  Cavour,  her  Gari- 
baldi, and  her  Victor  Emmanuel.  Such  two  trios  history  has 
never  seen  before,  and  may  never  see  again.  When  the  German 
army  returned  to  Berlin  to  celebrate  the  unification  of  twenty- 
eight  sovereignties  under  the  crown  of  Prussia,  the  Italian  army 
entered  Rome,  henceforth  the  national  capital  of  Italy — no  longer 
separated  into  petty,  despotic,  rival  states,  but  Italy  regenerated, 
united,  and  free. 

The  literary  and  patriotic  festival  we  have  described,  celebrated 
this  great  fact  and  sealed  it  with  all  the  authority  of  Bononia 
docens.     This  is  its  historic  significance. 

IV.— THE  AMERICAN  UNIVERSITY. 

The  academic  feast  of  Bologna  has  carried  us  back  to  the  dawn 
of  modern  civilization  in  the  beginning  of  the  twelfth  century. 
Let  us  now  cast  a  glance  into  the  future. 

America  has  the  unspeakable  advantage  of  starting  with  the 
capital  of  Europe.  The  labors  of  two  thousand  years  have 
accumulated  immense  treasures  of  knowledge  and  wisdom  which 
are  at  our  disposal.  We  have  no  right  to  live  unless  we  are 
willing  to  profit  by  the  lessons  of  the  past,  and  to  add  our  share 
to  the  wealth  of  the  future.  America  should  advance  as  much 
beyond  Europe  as  Europe  has  improved  upon  Asia.  Every 
nation  of  the  Old  World  sends  her  sons  and  daughters  as  well 
as  her  literature  to  help  us  in  this  magnificent  task. 

"Time's  noblest  offspring  is  the  last." 

The  chief  instruments  in  shaping  and  perfecting  American 
civilization  are  the  public  schools,  colleges,  and  universities.  Con- 
sidering the  youth  of  our  nation,  the  progress  of  education  has 
been  marvelous.  In  two  hundred  years  the  United  States  have 
advanced  as  much  in  this  direction  as  Europe  in  two  thousand 
years,  altliough,  of  course,  with  the  benefit  of  European  experi- 
18 


274     THE   UXIYEKSITY:    PAST,  PRESENT  AND  FUTURE. 

ence.  The  past  is  a  sure  pledge  of  a  still  brighter  future.  We 
are  only  in  the  beginning  of  the  development  of  our  resources. 
We  are  charged  with  national  vanity  and  boastfulness,  not  with- 
out reason.  But  it  is  impossible  to  live  a  year  in  this  country 
with  one's  eyes  open,  without  becoming  an  optimist.  Literary 
and  charitable  institutions,  churches,  and  schools  are  multiply- 
ing in  every  direction,  and  follow  the  settler  across  the  prairies 
and  primitive  forests,  where  buffaloes  and  wild  Indians  were  in 
undisputed  possession  not  many  years  ago.  The  donations  for 
these  institutions  exceed  in  amount  all  previous  precedents  in 
the  history  of  Europe,  and  are  increasing  and  multiplying  by 
the  irresistible  power  of  example.  One  citizen  of  California, 
prompted  by  religious  and  literary  motives,  has  recently  conse- 
crated twenty  millions  for  a  university  in  that  Pacific  State, 
which  has  not  yet  celebrated  its  semi-centennial.  Where  is  the 
Government  under  the  sun  that  has  done  so  much  for  such  an 
object  as  this  single  individual?  Of  course,  money  will  not 
build  up  an  institution;  but  the  race  of  scholars  keeps  pace 
with  the  growth  of  the  country. 

The  University  of  the  City  of  INew  York  is  to-day  only  fifty- 
«ight  years  of  age,  and  has  already  a  corps  of  eighty  teachers 
and  lecturers  in  the  faculty  of  arts  and  science  (dating  from 
1832),  the  faculty  of  medicine  (dating  from  1841),  and  the 
faculty  of  law  (dating  from  1858).  It  was  founded  neither  by 
pope  nor  king,  but,  in  truly  democratic  American  style,  by  the 
people  and  for  the  people.  Among  those  who  originated  the 
idea  of  a  university  in  this  metropolis,  who  endowed  it  with  their 
means,  and  who  carried  it  on  to  its  present  degree  of  prosperity, 
we  find  the  honored  names  of  clergymen,  lawyers,  physicians, 
bankers,  merchants,  and  useful  citizens  of  every  rank  in  society. 
Its  facilities  and  opportunities  are  expanding  with  the  growth 
of  this  city,  whose  future  no  one  can  ])rediet.  The  first  cen- 
tenary of  the  University  of  the  City  of  New  York  will  outshine 
the  eighth  centenary  of  the  University  of  Bologna,  as  the 
twentieth  century  will  be  in  advance  of  the  nineteenth.  Your 
University  has  already  furnished  invaluable  contributions  to  the 
civilization  of  the  world  by  two  inventions  made  in  this  your 
-building  by  two  of  your  professors — the  invention  of  the  Record- 


THE   UNIVERSITY  :    PAST,  PRESENT  AND  FUTURE.     275 

ing  Telegrapli,  and  the  invention  of  the  application  of  Pho- 
tography to  the  representation  of  tlie  human  countenance.  Your 
Professor  Morse  and  your  Professor  Draper  liave  immortalized 
themselves  and  immortalized  your  University  as  much  as  Irne- 
rius  and  Galvani  have  immortalized  Bologna.  Nor  should  Dr. 
Draper  the  son,  at  first  student,  then  professor  here,  be  un men- 
tioned to-day,  for  his  unexampled  application  of  photography  to 
the  heavenly  bodies. 

If  your  University  is  so  far  incomplete  as  to  exclude  a  theo- 
logical department,  it  has  its  precedent  in  Bologna,  which  had  no 
theological  faculty  for  the  first  two  hundred  years  of  its  existence, 
and  has  none  now.  But  exclusion  with  you  means  no  hostility 
or  indifference;  on  the  contrary,  it  is  based  on  respect  for  reli- 
gious freedom,  and  reflects  the  relation  which  the  State  holds  to 
the  Church  in  our  country,  that  is,  a  relation  of  friendly  inde- 
pendence. The  separation  of  Church  and  State  means  a  free 
Church  in  a  free  State,  each  sovereign  in  its  own  sphere,  both 
mutually  recognizing  and  aiding  each  other,  the  State  protecting 
the  Church  by  its  laws,  the  Church  promoting  the  welfare  of  the 
State  by  training  good  Christians,  who  are  the  best  citizens. 
Separation  of  Church  and  State  is  quite  compatible  with  the 
religious  character  of  the  nation.  Christianity,  general,  un- 
sectarian  Christianity,  with  freedom  of  conscience  for  all ; 
Christianity,  as  taught  by  its  Founder  in  the  New  Testament, 
is  embodied  in  our  laws,  institutions  and  customs,  and  can  never 
be  eradicated.  It  prospers  all  the  more  because  it  is  free.  No 
government  in  Europe,  no  matter  how  closely  united  to  the 
Church,  does  so  much  for  the  promotion  of  Christianity  at  home 
and  abroad  as  the  people  of  these  United  States  do  by  their 
voluntary  efforts  and  gifts. 

We  shall  witness  in  a  few  days  one  of  the  grandest  spectacles 
a  nation  can  present :  the  first  centenary  of  the  Inauguration  of 
our  Government,  when — in  imitation  of  the  example  set  by  the 
Father  of  our  Country  and  the  Founders  of  our  National  Gov- 
ernment, and  at  the  invitation  of  President  Harrison — the 
people  of  all  denominations  will  assemble  in  their  respective 
houses  of  divine  worship,  "to  implore ^^  (in  the  language  of  the 
Presidential  proclamation)  "  the  favor  of  God  that  the  blessings 


276    THE   UNIVERSITY:    PAST,  PRESENT  AND  FUTURE. 

of  liberty,  prosperity  and  peace  may  abide  with  us  as  a  people, 
and  that  His  hand  may  lead  us  into  the  paths  of  righteousness 
and  good  deeds/'  ^ 

The  founders  of  this  University,  from  the  very  start,  in  a 
printed  appeal  to  the  community,  dated  January  27th,  1830,  have 
clearly  defined  its  relation  to  religion,  in  these  words : — 

' '  In  our  general  statement  it  is  declared  that  no  faculty  of  theology  shall 
be  created  in  the  University.  We  deemed  this  exclusion  to  be  necessary  in 
order  the  more  effectually  to  secure  the  institution  from  the  introduction  of 
sectarian  influence.  But  are  we  therefore  to  be  accounted  as  proclaiming 
ourselves  indifferent  to  our  religion,  and  as  expecting  to  build  up  an  insti- 
tution which  proscribes  what  should  be  the  primary  and  all-important 
object  of  education  ?  We  trust  that  the  names  of  the  gentlemen  already 
engaged  in  this  enterprise  would  alone  be  sufficient  to  secure  us  from  such 
an  injurious  imputation.  Were  we  so  weak  and  so  wicked  as  to  project  a 
seminary  of  learning  from  which  religion  was  to  be  banished,  or  by  which 
its  holy  influences  were  to  be  weakened,  we  should  anticipate  neither  the 
favor  nor  the  support  of  men,  nor — what  is  of  infinitely  greater  conse- 
quence— the  blessing  of  God  upon  our  endeavors.  In  all  systems  of 
instmction  and  seminaries  for  training  youth,  we  consider  religion- to  be  of 
paramount  importance. 

"And  while  we  esteem  the  rights  of  conscience  and  the  great  principle 
oi  religious  liberty  to  be  of  inestimable  value,  and  would  most  sacredly  pre- 
serve them  from  present  or  remote  danger,  we  still  believe  that  it  will  be 
perfectly  competent  to  the  supreme  government  of  the  university,  and  that 
it  will  be  their  duty  to  provide  for  the  religious  instruction  of  those  youths 
who  may  be  entrusted  to  their  care." 

To  meet  this  view,  the  statement  proposes  that  the  University 
be  authorized  to  provide  for  general  instruction  in  the  evidences 
of  Christianity,  and  to  designate  religious  teachers  of  different 
Christian  denominations  when  represented  by  a  sufficient  num- 
ber of  students ;  but  not  to  compel  attendance  upon  this  special 
instruction  without  the  will  of  the  parent  or  guardian. 

The  University  has  lived  up  to  this  programme.  Its  chancel- 
lors, from  the  first  to  the  last,  have  consistently  and  successfully 
maintained  a  friendly  attitude  to  evangelical  Christianity  with- 
out in  the  least  interfering  with  religious  liberty.  They  were, 
with  one  exception,  themselves  honored  ministers  of  the  gospel 

^  The  centennial  celebration  of  Washington's  Inauguration  has  since  taken 
place,  from  April  29tli  to  May  1st,  1889,  and  has  itself  l)econie  a  liistoric  event 
of  great  signilicance  for  the  second  century  of  the  United  States  of  America. 


THE   UNIVERSITY  :    PAST,  PRESENT  AND   FUTURE.     277 

and  doctors  of  divinity,  and  yet  none  the  less  zealous  and  effec- 
tive as  promoters  of  all  the  scientific  and  literary  branches  of 
education.  And  the  one  layman  who  served  as  chancellor  from 
1838-1850,  Theodore  Freylinghuysen,  was  not  only  a  dis- 
tinguished statesman,  but  an  influential  leader  in  many  religious 
and  charitable  movements  of  his  day. 

The  future  of  our  country  depends  largely  upon  a  voluntary 
friendly  alliance  of  education  with  the  Christian  Church  with 
equal  justice  to  all  its  branches.  The  ultimate  aim  of  education 
is  to  build  up  character.  This  cannot  be  done  without  morality 
and  religion,  which  are  inseparably  bound  together.  Morality 
and  religion  are  the  crowning  features  of  individual  character, 
and  the  pillars  of  society  and  government.  No  liberty  without 
education,  no  education  without  virtue,  no  virtue  without  piety, 
no  piety  without  love  to  God  and  man. 

This  was  the  conviction  of  Washington,  exemplified  in  his 
pure  private  and  public  life,  and  proclaimed  in  his  first  inaugu- 
ral, and  in  his  last  farewell  address  to  the  people  who  revere  him 
as  their  father.  It  is  an  unspeakable  blessing  that  the  Almighty 
Ruler  of  nations  placed  at  the  head  of  our  history  a  man  who 
feared  God  and  loved  righteousness,  who  appreciated  education 
in  connection  with  virtue  and  religion,  and  who,  as  a  gentleman, 
a  citizen,  and  a  patriot,  set  a  bright  example  for  imitation ;  a 
man  whose  greatness  was  his  goodness — the  best,  because  the 
most  solid,  the  most  beneficent,  and  the  most  enduring  kind  of 
greatness.  Let  his  counsel  of  wisdom,  confirmed  by  the  experi- 
ence of  a  century,  go  forth  with  double  force  as  the  motto  of  the 
second  century  of  our  nation. 


278     THE   UXIYEKSITY:    PAST,  PRESENT  AND   FUTURE. 


APPENDIX. 


CEXTEXXIAL  PUBLICATIOXS  OF  THE  UXIVEESITY  OF  BOLOGXA. 

The  following  interesting  works  in  commemoration  of  the  Ottavo 
Centenario  dello  Studio  Bolognese  were  sent  by  the  University 
of  Bologna  to  Dr.  SchafF,  and  deposited  by  him  in  the 
library  of  the  University  of  the  City  of  New  York  : — 

Statuti  delta  Universitd  e  dei  CoUegl  dello  Studio  Bolognese.  PulMicati  da 
Caelo  MalagolA:  dottore  coltcgiato  onorario  delta  facoltd  giurhlica  delta  E. 
Universitd  e  dircttore  detV  archivio  di  stato  di  Bologna.  Bologna,  Nicola  Zani- 
chelli,  MDCCCLXXXVIII.     (524  pp.  fol.) 

Annuario  delta  Eegia  Universitd  di  Bologna.  Anno  scotastico,  1887-'88. 
Bologna,  i)remiato  stab.  tip.  successori  Monti,  1887.     (pp.  349. ) 

Sfabilimenti  Scieniijici  delta  R.  Universitd  di  Bologna  in  rapjyorio  col  Piano 
Begolatore  delta  cittd  secondo  il  progetto  del  Eettore  G.  Capellixi.  Bologna, 
stab.  tip.  succ.  Monti,  1888. 

Orazione  di  LuiGI  Galvani,  prof,  di  Anatomia  netta  Universitd  di  Bologna 
letta  nel  25  Xovenibre,  1782,  per  la  laurea  del  nipote  GiovAXXl  Aldix'I  edita 
per  sotennizzare  il  1°  centenario  delta  seoperta  fatta  dal  Galvani  nel  2G  Settemhre^ 
1786.     Bologna,  premiato  stab,  tip.  succ.  Monti,  1888. 

Bologna  cd  tempo  di  LXJIGI  Galyaxi  net  suo  govcrno  civile  ed  ecclesiastico, 
nelle  sue  istituzioni  di  scienze,  di  arti  e  di  jnibbtica  heneficenza  con  miscellanea  di 
notizie  hiografiche,  artistiche,  ancddotiche  e  di  costumanze  p)atrie particotari.  Com- 
pilazione  sopra  autentici  documenti  raccolti  ed  ordinati  dal  DoTT.  Alessaxdeo 
Bacchi.     Bologna,  tipografia  gamberini  e  parmeggiani,  1887. 

Conosci  Te  Stcsso  e  L^Amhiente  delta  iua  Attivitd.  Diatoglii  2)er  t'istruzione 
popolare  di  Ax'GPZLO  Maeescotti,  senatore  del  regno.  Bologna,  Nicola  Zani- 
chelli,  1888. 

Guida  del  E.  Istituto  Geologico  di  Bologna.  Bologna,  tix)ografia  Fava  e 
Garagnani,  1888. 

Universitati  Litterarum  et  Artium  Bononiensi  ferias  saecutares  octavas  pridie 
idus  lunias  anno  P.  A\  C.  BIDCCCLXXXVIII  celehranti  [Cantahrigise,  typis 
academicis).  A  Greek  Poem  of  Salutation,  by  Professor  R.  O.  Jebb,  of  the 
University  of  Glasgow,  beginning:  "  Mdrfp  apxala  codia^,  udev  Evpcjrza  rra/.a/." 

An  Italian  Translation,  by  G.  Pelliccioxi,  of  Jebb's  Poem  of  Salutation, 
entitled:  yilto  Studio  Di  Bologna  festeggiante  V ottavo  suo  centenario  il  XII. 
Giugno  3IDCCCLXXXVIIL 

Faccioli,  Archiginnasio  di  Bologna.     Bologna,  1888. 

A  Bronze  Medal  of  Humbeetus  I.  Rex  Itali.e,  Uxiveesitatis  Littee- 
aeum  et  Aetium  Boxoxiexsis  Pateonus. 


DANTE  ALIGHIEKI. 

DANTE,  SHAKESPEAKE,  GOETHE. 

Dante,  Shakespeare,  and  Goethe  are  the  greatest  poets  of  the 
Christian  era;  as  the  author  of  the  Book  of  Job,  Homer,  and 
Yirgil  are  the  greatest  of  the  era  before  Christ.  They  rise  like 
pyramids  in  the  history  of  literature.  Their  works  have  a  uni- 
versal and  perennial  interest. 

Their  theme  is  man  as  man.  They  sympathize  with  all  that 
is  human.  They  reproduce  with  the  intuition  of  genius,  in 
classical  style,  our  common  nature  in  all  its  phases  from  the 
lowest  to  the  highest,  from  the  worst  to  the  best.  Hence  they 
interest  all  classes  of  men. 

But  while  they  agree  in  this  general  characteristic,  they  differ 
as  widely  as  the  nations  and  ages  to  which  they  belong,  and  as 
the  languages  in  which  they  w^rote.  They  are  intensely  human, 
and  yet  intensely  national.  Dante  (1265-1321)  could  only  have 
arisen  in  Italy,  and  in  the  thirteenth  century;  Shakespeare 
(156-1-1616)  only  in  England,  and  in  the  sixteenth;  Goethe 
(1749-1832)  only  in  Germany,  and  in  the  eighteenth  century. 
Dante  is  the  poet  of  the  Middle  Ages;  Shakespeare  is  the  poet 
of  the  transition  period  of  the  Renaissance  and  Reformation ; 
Goethe  is  the  poet  of  modern  cosmopolitan  culture. 

It  is  impossible  to  say  who  is  the  greatest  and  the  most  uni- 
versal of  the  three.  Shakespeare  is  an  unexplained  literary 
miracle  as  to  creative  fertility  of  genius  which  ^' gives  to  airy 
nothing  a  local  habitation  and  a  name,"  and  as  to  intuitive 
knowledge  of  human  nature — English,  old  Roman,  Italian, 
French,  Scandinavian,  Christian,  Jewish,  heathen,  noble  and 
wicked,  angelic  and  Satanic.  Goethe  presents  greater  variety  of 
poetic  and  literary  composition,  and  excels  equally  in  drama, 
epos,  and  song,  in  narrative  prose  and  literary  criticism.  Dante 
is  the  most  exalted  and  sublime  of  the  three,  as  he  follows  men 
into  the  eternal  world  of  bliss  and  woe. 

Viewed  in  their  relation  to  religion,  Dante  is  the  most  reli- 

279 


280  DANTE  ALIGHIERI. 

gious  of  the  three.  He  is  the  Homer  of  mediae val  Christianity, 
aod  reflects  the  theology  of  St.  Thomas  Aquinas.  The  divine 
inspiration  and  authority  of  the  Scriptures,  the  Holy  Trinity, 
the  divinity  of  Christ  and  the  Holy  Spirit,  the  necessity  of  the 
atonement,  conversion  and  sanctification,  future  rewards  and 
punishments,  were  to  him  as  certain  truths  as  mathematical 
propositions,  and  heaven  and  hell  as  real  facts  as  happiness  and 
misery  In  this  life.  In  this  respect  he  resembles  the  singer  of 
Paradise  Lost  and  Paradise  Regained,  and  the  singer  of  the 
Messlad  much  more  than  Shakespeare  and  Goethe;  but  the  Eng- 
lish Milton  and  the  German  Klopstock,  with  a  purer  and  simpler 
faith,  do  not  reach  the  height  of  the  genius  of  the  Tuscan  poet. 

Dante  and  Milton  have  several  points  in  common :  both  are 
intensely  religious,  one  as  a  Catholic,  the  other  as  a  Puritan ; 
both  stood  at  the  height  of  learning  and  culture,  the  one  of  the 
thirteenth,  the  other  of  the  seventeenth  century;  both  were 
champions  of  freedom  against  despotism ;  both  engaged  in  party 
politics,  and  failed ;  both  ended  their  life  in  unhappy  isolation ; 
but  both  rose  in  sublime  heroism  above  personal  misfortune,  and 
produced  in  sorrow  and  disappointment  their  greatest  works,  full 
of  inspiring  thoughts  for  future  generations. 

Shakespeare  is  a  secular  poet,  and  professes  no  religion  at  all, 
whether  Catholic  or  Protestant;  he  is  hid  behind  his  characters. 
But  he  always  speaks  respectfully  of  religion  ;  he  makes  virtue 
lovely  and  vice  hateful ;  he  punishes  sin  and  crime,  and  his  trage- 
dies have  the  moral  effect  of  powerful  sermons.  He  is  full  of 
reminiscences  of,  and  allusions  to,  the  Bible.^  He  passed  through 
the  great  convulsion  of  the  Reformation  without  losing  his  faith. 
There  can  be  no  doubt  that  he  reverently  bowed  before  Him  whose 

"  Blessed  feet  were  nailed 
Fur  our  advantage  on  the  bitter  cross. ' '  ^ 

'  Bishop  Charles  Wordsworth,  of  St.  Andrews,  has  written  a  book  of  420 
pages  on  Shakespeare'' s  Knowledge  and  Uae  of  ihe  Bible  (London,  tliird  ed., 
1880),  in  which  he  traces  over  400  passages  of  the  Bible  quoted  or  referred  to 
by  Shakespeare.  As  he  wrote  most  of  his  works  before  IGll,  when  the 
Authorized  Version  apjjeared,  he  used  earlier  translations.  Wordsworth  asserts 
(p.  9)  that  King  James'  translators  owed  more  to  Shakespeare  than  he  to 
them. 

nienry  IV.,  P.  i..  Act  I.,  Sc.  1. 


DANTE   ALIGHIERI.  281 

And  we  look  in  vain  in  all  literature,  outside  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment, for  a  more  eloquent  and  truly  Christian  description  of 
mercy  than  that  given  by  '^gentle  William  " :  ^ 

"  The  quality  of  mercy  is  not  strain'd, 
It  droi)petli  as  the  gentle  rain  from  heaven 
Upon  tlic  place  heneath.     It  is  twice  bless' d  ; 
It  blesseth  him  that  gives,  and  him  that  takes  : 
'Tis  mightiest  in  the  mightiest ;  it  becomes 
The  throned  monarch  better  than  his  crown  : 
His  sceptre  shows  the  force  of  temporal  power, 
The  attribute  to  awe  and  majesty, 
"Wherein  doth  sit  the  fear  and  dread  of  kings  ; 
But  mercy  is  above  this  sceptred  sway  : 
It  is  enthroned  in  the  hearts  of  kings, 
It  is  an  attribute  to  God  himself. 
And  earthly  power  doth  then  show  likest  God's, 
When  mercy  seasons  justice. " 

Goethe  is  likewise  a  worldly  poet,  and  touches  religion  only 
incidentally  and  casually  as  one  of  the  essential  elements  of 
human  life ;  as  for  instance  in  the  confessions  of  a  beautiful  soul 
(Friiulein  von  Klettenberg,  a  pious  Moravian  lady  and  friend 
of  his  mother),  inserted  among  the  mixed  theatrical  company  of 
Wilhelm  Meister.  He  characterized  himself  as  a  liberal  and 
impartial  outsider,^  and  as  a  child  of  the  world  between  two 
prophets.^  He  had  a  Pelagian  or  Unitarian  view  of  the  way 
of  salvation,  and  expressed  it  in  the  Second  Part  of  Faustj 
which  has  been  called  the  tragedy  of  the  modern  age  of  the 
eighteenth  and  nineteenth  centuries.  Faust  is  saved,  not  in  the 
evangelical  w^ay  by  free  grace  through  repentance  and  faith  in 
Christ,  but  by  his  own  constant  endeavor  and  self-culture,  aided 
by  divine  love,  and  by  Mary  and  Gretchen  drawing  him  heaven- 
ward.    Angels  bear  Faust's  immortal  part  and  sing — 

^Merchant  of  Venice,  Act  iv.,  Sc.  1. 

2  ^^  Ich  bin  kchi  Unchrisi,  kcin  Widerchrist,  dock  ein  dccidirter  NichtchrisV 
Letter  to  the  pious  Lavater,  the  frieud  of  his  youth,  1782. 

'  "  Prophcte  redds,  Prophet e  links, 
Das  Weltkind  in  der  Mitten.'''' 


282  DANTE   ALIGHIERI. 

"  Gercttet  ist  das  edle  Glied 

Der  Geisterwelt  vom  Boseii  : 
Wer  hnmer  strebend  sich  hemilht, 
Den  hbniien  icir  erlosen. 

"  Und  hat  an  ihm  die  Liche  gar 
Von  oben  teilgenommen, 
Begegnet  ikon  die  seFge  Schaar 
Mit  herzl ichem  WiUkonimen/^  ^ 

We  need  not  wonder  that  Goethe  had  the  highest  admiration 
for  Shakespeare,  but  disliked  Dante,  and  called  his  Inferno 
"abominable;"  his  P?/.r^aio?^io '^ambiguous '^  and  his  Paradiso 
"tiresome'^  (^^ay?  1787).  In  showing  a  bust  of  Dante  to 
Eckermann,  he  said :  "  He  looks  as  if  he  came  out  of  hell." 
The  contrast  between  the  two  men  is  almost  as  great  as  the  con- 
trast between  Gretchen  and  Beatrice.  And  yet  the  First  Part 
of  the  tragedy  of  Faust  furnishes  a  striking  parallel  to  the 
Inferno  of  the  Divine  Comedy,  and  contains  some  of  the  pro- 
foundest  Christian  ideas,  expressed  in  the  purest  language. 
Think  of  the  prelude  in  heaven,  imitated  from  the  Book  of  Job, 
the  sublime  songs  of  the  three  archangels,  the  triumphant  Easter 
hymn,  which  prevents  Faust  from  committing  suicide,  the 
solemn  cathedral  scene,  the  judgment  trumpet  of  the  Dies  Irce, 
the  terrors  of  a  guilty  conscience,  and  the  downward  progress  of 
sin  begetting  new  sin  and  leading  stej)  by  step  to  insanity,  prison 
and  death.  The  description  of  Mephistopheles  is  far  more  true 
to  the  character  of  the  sneering,  scoffing,  hideous  arch-fiend  of 
the  human  race  than  Dante's  horrid  monster  at  the  bottom  of 
the  Inferno.  The  concluding  act  before  the  day  of  execution, 
the  salvation   of  the  innocently  guilty  and   penitent  Gretchen, 

1  The  emphasis  lies  on  the  third  and  fourth  lines,  the  earnest  and  constant 
endeavor  of  man,  as  the  chief  condition  of  salvation,  to  which  is  added  divine 
love  as  a  help  from  above.  Goethe  himself  declared  to  Eckermann  (June 
6,  1831)  that  in  these  verses  lies  the  key  for  the  redemption  of  Faust.  "  //< 
Fnust  selher  cine  immcr  liohcre  und  reinere  Thdtiglrif  his  an's  Endc,  nnd  von 
obcn  die  ihm  zu  Il'dlfe  lomincnde  ewige  Liche.  Es  stcht  dies  mit  luisererreligiusen 
Vorstellunf^  durchuus  in  Jlarmonie^  nach  wclcher  irir  nicJit  hloss  durch  eigene 
Kraft  sclig  werdcn,  sondcrn  durch  die  hinzukommende  gutlJiche  Gnade.''^  This 
reverses  the  evangelical  order,  which  puts  Divine  grace  first  and  human 
endeavor  second,  and  puts  both  in  the  relation  of  cause  and  eft'ect. 


DANTE   ALIGHIERI.  283 

and  the  perdition  of  her  guilty  seducer,  followed  by  the  cry  of 
pity :  "  Henry,  Henry !  '^  is  the  very  perfection  of  tragical  art, 
and  overpowering  in  its  moral  effect.  The  Second  Part,  wdiich 
occupied  the  trembling  hand  of  the  aged  poet  during  the  last 
seven  years  of  his  life,  is  full  of  unexplained  allegorical  mysteries, 
and  ends  with  the  attraction  of  ^^  the  eternal  womanly.'^  So  far, 
but  no  further,  it  resembles  the  Paradise  of  Dante  and  the  attrac- 
tion of  Beatrice.  The  Purgatory  is  missing  in  Faust,  or  hid  in 
silence  between  the  First  and  Second  Part. 

Of  the  life  of  Dante  and  Shakespeare  we  know  very  little,  and 
that  little  is  uncertain  and  disputed.  Goethe  left  a  charming 
record  of  his  early  life,  and  his  later  years  are  equally  well 
known.  Dante  and  Shakespeare  died  in  the  vigor  of  manhood, 
the  former  at  the  age  of  fifty-six,  the  latter  at  the  age  of  fifty- 
three,  both  in  the  Christian  faith  and  the  hope  of  immortality. 
Goethe  lived  to  a  serene  old  age  of  eighty-two,  praying  for 
"more  light/'  and  left,  ten  days  before  his  departure  from 
this  world  of  mystery  to  the  ^vorld  of  light,  as  his  last  wise 
utterance,  a  testimony  to  the  Christ  of  the  Gospel  which  is  w^ell 
worth  pondering  by  every  thinking  skeptic,  saying:  "Let  mental 
culture  go  on  advancing,  let  mental  sciences  go  on  gaining  in 
depth  and  breadth,  and  the  human  mind  expand  as  it  may,  it 
will  never  surpass  the  elevation  and  moral  culture  of  Christi- 
anity as  it  glistens  and  shines  forth  in  the  Gospels."  Add  to 
this  his  emphatic  declaration :  "  I  consider  the  Gospels  to  be 
thoroughly  genuine ;  for  there  is  reflected  in  them  a  majesty  and 
sublimity  which  emanated  from  the  person  of  Christ,  and  which 
is  as  truly  divine  as  anything  ever  seen  on  earth.'' 

The  great  poet  of  AYeimar  pointed  in  these  testimonies  to  the 
strongest  and  most  convincing  internal  evidence  of  Christianity  : 
the  perfect  teaching  and  perfect  example  of  its  Founder.  If  this 
once  takes  hold  of  the  heart  as  well  as  the  mind  of  a  man,  he  is 
impregnable  against  the  attacks  of  infidelity.  This  was  the  con- 
fession of  one  of  the  profoundest  thinkers  of  the  nineteenth 
century.  "The  foundation  of  all  my  thinking,"  says  Richard 
Rothe,^  "I  may  honestly  declare,  is  the  simple  faith  in  Christ, 

^  Preface  to  the  first  edition  of  his  Thcologische  EthiJc,  repriuted  iu  the 
second  edition  (Wittenberg,  1367,  sqq.),  vol.  i.,  p.  xvi. 


284  DANTE  ALIGHIERI. 

as  it  (not  this  or  that  dogma  or  this  or  that  theology)  has  for 
eighteen  centuries  overcome  the  world.  It  is  to  me  the  ultimate 
certainty,  in  view  of  which  I  am  ready,  unhesitatingly  and  joy- 
fully, to  cast  overboard  every  other  assumption  of  knowledge 
which  sliould  be  found  to  contradict  it.  I  know  no  other  fixed 
point  into  wliich  I  could  cast  out  the  anchor  for  my  thought 
except  the  historical  manifestation,  which  is  designated  by  the 
sacred  name,  Jesus  Christ.  It  is  to  me  the  unassailable  Holy  of 
Holies  of  mankind,  the  most  exalted  thing  that  has  ever  come 
into  a  human  consciousness,  and  a  sunrise  in  history,  from  which 
alone  light  diffuses  itself  over  the  collective  circle  of  the  objects 
which  fall  within  our  view.  With  this  one  absolutely  undis- 
coverable  datum,  the  knowledge  of  which  moreover  bears  direct 
testimony  to  its  reality,  as  the  light  to  itself,  and  in  which  lie 
involved  consequences  beyond  the  reach  of  anticipation,  stands 
and  falls  for  me,  in  the  ultimate  ground,  every  certainty  of  the 
spiritual  and  therefore  eternal  nobility  of  the  human  race.^^ 

Will  America  ever  produce  a  poet  equal  in  genius  to  Dante, 
Shakespeare,  Goethe,  but  free  from  their  errors;  a  poet  who  shall 
identify  his  life  and  work  with  the  cause  of  Christianity  pure 
and  undefiled,  and  show  forth  the  blissful  harmony  of  beauty, 
truth,  and  goodness?  Or  must  we  wait  for  the  millennium,  or 
for  Paradise  ? 

THE   LIFE  OF   DANTE. 

"Behold  the  man  who  has  been  in  Hell,"  ^  exclaimed  the 
women  of  Verona  when  they  looked  on  Dante,  as  an  exile, 
walking  lonely,  thoughtful,  sad  and  solemn  through  the  streets. 
They  might  have  added,  "and  in  Purgatory  and  in  Paradise.'^ 
But  the  Paradiso  was  at  that  time  not  yet  finished,  and  the 
women  were  naturally  struck  with  the  most  prominent  feature; 
they  expressed  the  popular  preference  for  the  Inferno^  which  is 
most  read  and  best  known.  Few  have  the  patience  to  climb  up 
the  mountain  of  the  Fargatorioy  and  to  follow  him  into  the 
Paradiso  J  though  this  is  the  purest  and  sublimest  part  of  the 
Div'ina  Commedia.  Eternity  in  all  its  phases  seems  impressed 
upon  that  countenance,  painted  by  his  friend  Giotto,  which  once 

^  ^^  Eccovi  Vuom  cWii  stato  alV  inferno.''^ 


DANTE   ALIGHIERI.  285 

seen  can  never  be  forgotten.  We  behold  there  combined  the 
solemn  sadness,  the  discipline  of  sorrow,  and  the  repose  of  faith. 
Dante's  life  is  a  tragedy.  It  opens  with  the  sweet  spring  of  pure 
love,  passes  into  the  summer  heat  of  severe  study  and  political 
strife,  and  ends  in  an  autumn  of  poverty  and  exile;  but  the  out- 
come of  all  was  the  Dlvina  Commedtay  by  which  he  continues  to 

live. 

"  Xiirtiircd  into  povcrt\^  by  wrong 
He  learut  in  sufiering  what  he  taught  in  song. ' ' 

His  inner  life  is  written  in  his  works;  but  of  his  outward 
life  we  know  only  a  few  facts  with  any  degree  of  certainty; 
others  are  doubtful  or  differently  interpreted ;  hence  we  must  be 
guarded  in  our  assertions. 

Dante — an  abridgment  of  Durante,  the  Enduring — was 
descended  from  the  ancient  and  noble  family  of  the  Aligeri  or 
Alighieri  (Allighieri),  and  born  at  Florence  in  the  month  of 
May  or  June^  1265,  during  the  pontificate  of  Clement  IV. 
(1265-1268),  in  the  age  of  the  Crusades,  the  cathedrals,  the 
scholastic  philosophy,  the  monastic  orders,  the  papal  theocracy 
in  conflict  with  the  empire,  and  of  the  gigantic  contrast  between 
monkish  world-renunciation  (  Weltentsagung)  and  popish  world- 
dominion  (  Weltbeherrschung). 

He  was  a  boy  of  thirteen  when  Conradin,  the  last  scion  of 
the  illustrious  imperial  house  of  Hohenstaufen,  was  beheaded  at 
Naples  (1268);  he  was  fifteen  at  the  death  of  St.  Louis,  of 
France,  the  last  of  the  Crusaders  (1270) ;  nineteen,  when  St. 
Thomas  Aquinas  and  St.  Bonaventura,  his  masters  in  theology, 
ascended  to  the  beatific  vision  in  Paradise  (1274).  He  was  yet 
a  youth  when  Giotto  was  born  (1276),  when  Albertus  Magnus 
died  (1280),  when  the  Sicilian  Vespers  took  place  (1282).  In 
the  year  1289,  Francesca  da  Rimini  was  murdered,  whom  he 
immortalized  in  the  fifth  Canto  of  the  Inferno.  The  death  and 
glorification  of  Beatrice  occurred  in  1290,  when  he  had  reached 
his  twenty-fifth  year. 

Some  important  events  fell  in  the  period  of  his  exile  :  the  first 
papal  jubilee  at  Rome  (1300),  the  conflict  of  Boniface  VIII. 
with  Philip  the  Fair ;  the  beginning  of  the  Babylonian  exile  of 
the   papacy   (1309-1370);    the   suppression   of    the   Templars 


286  DANTE   ALIGHIERI. 

(1312);  the  birth  of  Petrarca  (1304),  and  of  Boccaccio  (1313); 
and  from  these  two  poets  may  be  dated  the  Italian  Renaissance, 
and  that  Rjvival  of  Letters  which,  in  turn,  prepared  the  way 
for  modern  civilization. 

Dante's  father  was  a  lawyer.  His  mother,  Donna  Bella,  is 
once  mentioned  by  Virgil  in  the  words  addressed  to  Dante  : — 

' '  Blessed  is  she  that  bore  thee. ' '  ^ 

DANTE  AND  BEATEICE. 

In  his  ninth  year  Dante  saw  for  the  first  time,  on  a  festive 
May-day,  under  a  laurel  tree,  a  Florentine  maiden  of  angelic 
beauty  and  loveliness,  with  fair  hair,  bright  blue  eyes  and  pearl- 
white  complexion,  only  a  few  months  younger  than  himself. 
She  was  the  daughter  of  Falco  Portinari,  a  noble  Florentine, 
and  bore  the  Christian  name  of  Bice  or  Beatrice,  which  recalls 
the  idea  of  beatitude  or  blessedness. 

He  touchingly  describes  the  interview  in  his  New  Life  {Vita 
Nuova).  ^^  She  appeared  to  me,''  he  says,  ^'  clothed  in  a  most 
noble  color,  a  modest  and  becoming  crimson,  garlanded  and 
adorned  in  such  wise  as  befitted  her  very  youthful  age.  At  that 
instant  the  spirit  of  life  which  dwells  in  the  most  secret  chamber 
of  the  heart,  began  to  tremble,  and  said  :  ^  Behold  a  god,  stronger 
than  I,  who,  coming,  shall  rule  me'  [Ecce  deus  fortior  me,  qui 
venieris  dominahitur  mihi)J' 

"This  most  gentle  lady  reached  such  favor  among  the  people, 
that  when  she  passed  along  the  way  persons  ran  to  see  her,  which 
gave  me  wonderful  delight.  And  when  she  was  near  any  one, 
such  modesty  took  possession  of  his  heart,  that  he  did  not  dare  to 
raise  his  eyes  or  to  return  her  salutation  ;  and  to  this,  should  any 
one  doubt  it,  many,  as  having  experienced  it,  could  bear  witness 
for  me.  She,  crowned  and  clothed  with  humility,  took  her  way, 
displaying  no  pride  in  that  which  she  saw  and  heard.  Many, 
when  she  had  passed,  said:  ^This  is  not  a  woman,  rather  is  she 
one  of  the  most  beautiful  angels  of  heaven.'  Others  said  :  ^  She 
is  a  miracle.  Blessed  be  the  Lord  who  can  perform  such  a 
marvel.'     I  say  that  she  showed  herself  so  gentle  and  so  full  of 

^  Inferno,  VIII.,  45  :  "  Benedctia  colei  die  in  te  s^incinse.''^ 


DANTE   ALIGHIERL  287 

all  beauties,  that  those  who  looked  on  her  felt  within  themselves 
a  pure  and  sweet  delight,  such  as  they  could  not  tell  in  words."  ^ 
At  the  end  of  that  book  he  calls  this  Florentine  maiden  ^' the 
blessed  Beatrice  who  in  glory  looks  upon  the  face  of  Him  qui 
est  per  omnia  secula  bencdidusJ^ 

The  meeting  of  Dante  with  Beatrice  was  to  him  a  revelation  and 
an  inspiration,  the  beginning  of  a  new  life,  the  turning  point  of  his 
career,  the  germ  of  his  great  poem.  It  opened  to  him  the  foun- 
tain of  love  and  poetry.  Beatrice  was  not  destined  to  be  the 
companion  of  his  life,  but  they  continued  to  be  united  by  the 
bands  of  Platonic  love. 

Xine  years  after  the  first  interview,  when  they  were  eighteen, 
he  saw  her  again,  clothed  in  pure  white,  and  received  her  smiling 
salutation,  which  filled  him  with  such  an  ecstacy  of  delight,  that  on 
returning  home  he  fell  into  a  sweet  slumber  and  had  a  marvelous 
vision.  He  described  this  vision  in  a  sonnet,  his  first  poetic  com- 
position, and  sent  it,  according  to  the  custom  of  the  age,  to  several 
eminent  persons,  among  others  to  Guido  Cavalcanti,  who  became 
his  faithful  friend  till  his  death  (1300). 

From  this  time  dates  his  fame  as  a  poet.  He  continued  to 
dream  and  to  love,  and  to  gaze  at  Beatrice  from  a  distance  and 
to  write  poems  in  her  praise,  yet  without  naming  her,  lest  he 
should  offend  her  modesty  or  compromise  her  honor. 

In  a  canzone  he  describes  a  dream  in  which  he  beheld  the 
lifeless  form  of  Beatrice  in  sorrowful  procession  carried  to  the 
grave,  while  angels  in  a  white  cloud  took  up  her  spirit  to  God. 

Soon  after  this  dream  Beatrice  died,  in  her  twenty-fifth  year, 
June  9th,  1290. 

But  Beatrice  rose  again  in  his  imagination  under  a  higher 
character,  as  the  symbol  of  divine  wisdom,  and  accompanied  him 
as  guide  and  interpreter  in  the  Divina  Commcdia  through  the 
regions  of  the  Blessed  in  Paradise  up  to  the  dazzling  vision  of  the 
Triune  God.  Earthly  love  was  thus  transformed  into  heavenly 
love  and  wisdom. 

Beatrice  is  the  golden  thread  which  runs  through  the  Divina 
Commedia.  She  is,  so  to  say,  the  heroine  of  the  poem.  She 
appeared  as  a  "fair,  saintly  lady,"  with  eyes  shining  brighter 

^  Hie  Neio  Life,  translated  by  C.  E.  Norton,  pp.  51,  52. 


288  DANTE  ALIGHIERI. 

than  the  stars,  to  the  poet  Virgil  of  imperial  Rome,  and  com- 
manded him,  with  the  angelic  voice  of  love,  to  extricate  Dante 
from  the  dangers  of  the  dark  forest  and  to  lead  him  through 
Hell  and  Purgatory  to  the  gates  of  Paradise.  She  meets  him 
on  the  top  of  the  mountain  of  Purgatory,  '^  smiling  and  happy/' 
She  rebukes  him  for  his  sins,  and  then  leads  him  to  Paradise, 
He  sees  her — 

"Gazing  at  the  sun  ; 
Never  did  eagle  fasten  so  upon  it. ' ' 

' '  And  she  such  lightnings  flashed  into  mine  eyes, 
That  at  the  first  my  sight  endured  it  not. ' ' 

' '  Beatrice  gazed  upon  me  with  her  eyes 
Full  of  the  sparks  of  love,  and  so  divine, 
That,  overcome  my  power,  I  turned  my  back 
And  almost  lost  myself  with  eyes  cast  down."' 

' '  And  Beatrice,  she  who  is  seen  to  pass 
From  good  to  better,  and  so  suddenly 
That  not  by  time  her  action  is  expressed, 
How  lucent  in  herself  must  she  have  been  !" 

"While  the  eternal  pleasure,  which  direct 
Rayed  upon  Beatrice,  from  her  fair  face 
Contented  me  with  its  reflected  aspect, 
Conquering  me  with  the  radiance  of  a  smile. 
She  said  to  me,  '  Turn  thee  about  and  listen  ; 
Not  in  mine  eyes  alone  is  Paradise. '  ' ' 

"And  so  translucent  I  beheld  her  eyes. 
So  full  of  pleasure,  that  her  countenance 
Surpassed  its  other  and  its  latest  wont. " — 

"0  Beatrice,  thou  gentle  guide  and  dear  !" 

*' And  around  Beatrice  three  several  times 
It  whirled  itself  with  so  divine  a  song, 
My  fantasy  repeats  it  not  to  me." — 

"So  from  before  mine  eyes  did  Beatrice 
Cliase  every  mote  with  radiance  of  her  own, 
That  cast  its  li.Ldit  a  thousand  miles  and  more."  — 


DANTE   ALIGHIEKI.  289 

"She  smiled  so  joyously 
That  Grod  seemed  in  her  countenance  to  rejoice." — ^ 

As  Dante  approached  the  Empyrean  or  the  highest  heaven,  he 
again  turns  to  Beatrice  with  intense  admiration  and  love. 

"If  what  has  hitherto  been  said  of  her 

Were  all  concluded  in  a  single  praise, 
Scant  would  it  be  to  serve  the  present  turn. 

Not  only  does  the  beauty  I  beheld 

Transcend  ourselves,  but  truly  I  believe 
Its  Maker  only  may  enjoy  it  all. 

Vanquished  do  I  confess  me  by  this  passage 

More  than  by  problem  of  his  theme  was  ever 
O'ercome  the  comic  or  the  tragic  poet. 

For  as  the  sun  the  sight  that  trembles  most, 
Even  so  the  memory  of  that  sweet  smile 
My  mind  depriveth  of  its  very  self 

From  the  first  day  that  I  beheld  her  face 
In  this  life,  to  the  moment  of  this  look. 
The  sequence  of  my  song  has  ne'  er  been  severed  ; 

But  now  perforce  this  sequence  must  desist 
From  following  her  beauty  with  my  verse, 
As  every  artist  at  his  uttermost. 

Such  as  I  leave  her  to  a  greater  fame 

Than  any  of  my  trumpet,  which  is  bringing 
Its  arduous  matter  to  a  final  close, 

With  voice  and  gesture  of  a  perfect  leader 

She  recommenced  :  'We  from  the  greatest  body 
Have  issued  to  the  heaven  that  is  pure  light ; 

^  See  references  to  Beatrice  in  Inferno,  ir.  53  sqq.,  70,  103  ;  x.  131  ;  xii. 
88  ;  XV.  90.  Fargatorio,  i.  53  ;  VI.  47  ;  XV.  77  ;  xvill,  48,  73  ;  XXlii.  128  ; 
xxvii.  36,  53,  136  ;  xxx.  73  ;  xxxi.  80,  107,  114,  133  ;  xxxii.  36,  85,  106. 
Paracliso,  I.  46  ;  in.  127  ;  IV.  139-142  ;  x.  37-40  ;  xviii.  16-21  ;  55-58  : 
XXIII.  34  ;  XXIV.  22-25  ;  XXVI.  76-79  ;  xxvil.  104,  105  ;  XXIX.  8 ;  xxx. 
14,  128 ;  XXXI.  59,  66,  76 ;  xxxii.  9  ;  xxxiii.  38.  The  passages  quoted 
are  from  Longfellow's  translation. 
19 


290  DANTE  ALIGHIERI. 

Light  intellectual  replete  with  love, 

Love  of  true  good  replete  with  ecstasy, 
Ecstasy  that  transcendeth  every  sweetness. 

Here  shalt  thou  see  the  one  host  and  the  other 
Of  Paradise,  and  one  in  the  same  aspects 
Which  at  the  final  judgment  thou  shalt  see. '  "  ^ 

So  far  all  is  pure  and  lovely.  Dante  and  Beatrice  are  an  ideal 
and  inspiring  pair  of  beauty,  and  exert  a  perennial  charm  upon 
the  imagination.  They  represent  a  love  that  is  kindled  by  an 
earthly  and  by  a  heavenly  flame,  and  blends  in  harmony  the 
natural  and  spiritual.     As  Uhland  sings  : — 

"  Ja  /  mlt  Fag  wird  dieser  Sanger 
AIs  der  g'dttliche  vereJtref, 
Dante,  ivelcheni  irdsche  LlcLe 
SlcIi  zu  himndischer  verJdaret.^^ 

The  relation  of  Dante  to  Beatrice  is  altogether  unique.  It  is 
the  last  and  highest  stage  of  chivalric  sentiment,  but  transformed 
into  a  mystic  devotion  to  an  ideal.  Beatrice  was  a  woman  of 
flesh  and  blood,  and  at  the  same  time  the  impersonation  of  Divine 
wisdom  ;  the  lovely  daughter  of  Folco  Portinari  and  the  symbol 
of  theology,  that  queen  of  sciences  which  comes  from  God  and 
leads  to  God.  She  was  both  real  and  ideal,  terrestrial  and  celes- 
tial, human  and  divine.  She  was  to  him  all  that  is  pure, 
lovely  and  attractive  in  innocent  womanhood,  and  all  that  is 
sacred  and  sublime  in  Divine  wisdom.  She  was  while  on  earth 
the  guardian  angel  of  his  youth,  and  after  her  death  the  guardian 
angel  of  his  lonely  exile.  She  was  to  him  the  golden  ladder 
from  earth  to  heaven,  the  bridge  from  Paradise  Lost  to  Paradise 

1  Parad.  XXX.  16-45,  Longfellow's  translation.  If  Beatrice  represents  true 
theology,  or  the  knowledge  of  God,  then  God  only  can  fully  know  and  fully 
enjoy  it,  ver.  21.  The  artist  fails  in  his  highest  aim,  which  is  the  perfect 
revelation  of  his  ideal,  ver,  32.  The  heaven  of  pure  light,  ver.  39,  is  the 
tenth  and  last  heaven,  above  all  space.  Dante  says  {Convito,  ii.  15)  :  "  The 
Empyrean  Heaven,  by  its  peace,  resembles  the  Divine  Science,  which  is  full  of 
all  peace  ;  and  which  suffers  no  strife  of  opinions  or  sophistical  arguments, 
because  of  the  exceeding  certitude  of  its  subject,  which  is  God."  In  ver.  45 
we  must  distinguish  the  host  of  angels  who  have  the  same  aspect  after  the 
last  judgment  as  ])efore,  and  the  host  of  saints  who  will  wear  "  the  twofold 
garment,"  the  spiritual  body  and  the  glorified  earthly  body  (Canto  XXV.  92). 


BAXTE   ALIGIIIERI.  291 

Kegalned.  She  symbolizes  that  ^^  love  which  moves  the  sun  and 
the  stars/'  that  "  eternal  womanly/'  which  in  its  deepest  Christian 
sense  is  the  ever  watchful  love  of  God  irresistibly  drawing  us  on- 
ward and  upward. 

"  ^Mortal  that  perishes 

Tyi^es  the  ideal  ; 
All  that  faith  cherishes 

Tims  becomes  real  ; 
Wrought  superhumanly 

Here  it  is  done  ; 
The  cvei'-woinauly 

Draweth  us  on. ' '  ^ 

The  double  character  of  Beatrice  agrees  with  the  double  sense, 
the  literal  and  spiritual,  which  Dante  gives  to  his  poem.  He 
accepted  the  exegetical  canon  of  mediaeval  theology  which  dis- 
tinguished in  the  Bible  four  senses — the  literal,  the  allegorical, 
the  moral,  and  the  anagogic  (corresponding  to  history,  and  to 
the  three  cardinal  virtues,  faith,  love  and  hope). 

There  are  some  distinguished  Dante  scholars  who  deny  the 
historic  character  of  Beatrice  and  regard  her  as  a  pure  symbol, 
as  a  creature  of  the  poet's  imagination.^  But  this  is  inconsis- 
tent with  a  natural  interpretation  of  the  Vita  Nitova,  and  of  the 
sonnets  to  Beatrice  which  are  addressed  to  a  living  being. 
Dante  might  In  his  ninth  year  have  fallen  in  love  with  a  pretty 
girl,  but  not  with  an  abstract  symbol  of  which  he  knew  nothing. 

^  The  mj^stic  conclusion  of  the  Second  Part  of  Goethe's  Faust : — 
^^  AUes  VergangUche 

1st  nur  ein  GlcicJiniss ; 
Das  Unzulllngliche 

Ilier  \cinVs  Ercigniss  ; 
Das  Unheschreihliclic 

Ilicr  isfs  gethan  ; 
Das  Eicig-  WeihUche 
Zieht  uns  hinan.^^ 
2  Canon  Biscioni   (1723)  understood  Beatrice  to  mean  simply  wisdom  or 
theology  ;  Rossetti,  the  imperial  monarchy  ;  Prof.  Bartoli,  woman  in  her  ideal 
character.     According  to  other  Italian  commentators,  she  is  Ja  teologia  ;  la 
grazia  cooper  ante  ;  la  grazia  salvificantc  ;  la  seicnzia  divina.     Katharine  Hil- 
lard,  in  the  introduction  to  her  translation  of  Tlie  Banquet  (London,  1889, 
pp.  XXXIX,  sqq.),  favors  the  purely  allegorical  conception  of  Beatrice  and  the 
Donna  gentile.     She  discredits  "the  untrustworthy  romancer,  Boccaccio." 
Oietmann  {Beatrice,  1889)  makes  Beatrice  the  symbol  of  the  ideal  church. 


292  DANTE  ALIGHIERI. 

This  was  an  after-thought  of  later  years,  when  she  was  in  heaven. 
Her  death  and  his  deep  grief  over  it  have  no  meaning  if  she 
was  a  mere  allegory.-^ 

There  is  one  spot  on  this  bright  picture.  Judging  from  the 
standpoint  of  Christian  ethics,  we  should  think  that  such  an  ideal 
relationship  must  end  either  in  legitimate  marriage,  or  in  per- 
petual virginity.  But  neither  was  the  case.  Beatrice  did  not 
return  the  love  of  Dante,  except  by  a  smile  from  a  distance. 
She  married — if  we  are  to  credit  Boccaccio — a  rich  banker  of 
Florence,  Simone  de'  Bardi,  and  became  the  mother  of  several 
children.  Dante,  after  two  years  of  grief  for  Beatrice,  married 
Gemma  Donati,  who  bore  him  four  or  seven  children.  He 
never  mentions  the  husband  of  Beatrice,  nor  his  own  wife,  and 
remained  true  to  the  love  of  his  youth. 

These  facts  mar  both  the  poetry  and  the  reality  of  that  rela- 
tionship. But  the  chivalry  of  the  Middle  Ages  and  the  custom 
of  Italy  allowed  a  division  of  affection  which  is  inconsistent 
with  modern  ideas.  The  troubadours  ignored  their  own  wives^ 
and  idolized  other  women,  married  or  single. 

THE   DONNA  PIETOSA. 
Dante  mourned  the  death  of  Beatrice,  "  the  first  delight  of  his. 
soul,^'  till  he  had  no  more  tears  to  give  ease  to  his  sorrow. 

"The  eyes  that  weep  for  pity  of  my  heart 
Have  wept  so  long  that  their  grief  languisheth, 
And  they  have  no  more  tears  to  weep  withal. ' ' 

He  gave  utterance  to  his  grief  in  sonnets  to 

"That  lady  of  all  gentle  memories." 

He  thus  celebrated  the  first  anniversary  of  her  departure  (June 
9th,  1291). 

About  that  time  he  saw  the  "gentle  and  compassionate  lady," 

^  Giov.  da  Serravalle,  who  wrote  a  Latin  translation  and  commentary  (aa 
quoted  hy  Dean  Plumptre,  I,  p.  Lil,  from  the  MS.  in  the  British  Museum), 
sums  up  tlie  case  with  the  words:  ^^  Banie  dilexit  hanc  pucllnm  Bcatriccm 
hiHtorice  ctlitcrnllter,  scd  aUegorice,  sacram  Thcolor/iam.^^  But  theology  is  too 
narrow  a  conception  ;  Beatrice  in  her  ideal  nature  combines  Divine  revela- 
tion, Divine  wisdom,  and  Divine  love. 


DANTE  ALIGHIERI.  293 

whom  lie  does  not  name,  but  who  captivated  his  eyes  and  his 
heart.  She  has  given  great  trouble  to  his  biographers  and  com- 
mentators, who  are  divided  between  a  literal  and  an  allegorical 
conception,  or  combine  the  two. 

"  I  lifted  up  mine  eyes  '' — so  he  tells  the  story  towards  the  end 
of  the  Vita  Niiova — "  and  perceived  a  gentle  (noble)  lady,  young 
and  very  beautiful,  who  was  gazing  upon  me  from  a  window  with 
a  gaze  full  of  pity,  so  that  the  very  sum  of  pity  appeared  gathered 
around  her.-^  And  seeing,  that  unhappy  persons,  when  they  beget 
compassion  in  others,  are  then  most  moved  into  weeping,  as 
though  they  also  felt  pity  for  themselves,  it  came  to  pass  that 
mine  eyes  began  to  be  inclined  unto  tears.  Wherefore,  becoming 
fearful  lest  I  should  make  manifest  mine  abject  condition,  I  rose 
up,  and  went  where  I  could  not  be  seen  by  that  lady ;  saying 
afterward  within  myself:  '  Certainly  with  her  also  must  abide 
most  noble  love.'  And  with  that  I  resolved  upon  writing  a 
sonnet,  wherein,  speaking  unto  her,  I  should  say  all  that  I  have 
just  said.'' 

Then  follows  this  sonnet,  after  which  he  continues :  "  It  hap- 
pened after  this,  that  whensoever  I  was  seen  by  this  lady,  she 
became  pale  and  of  a  piteous  countenance,  as  though  it  had  been 
with  love ;  whereby  she  reminded  me  many  times  of  my  own  most 
noble  lady,  wJio  was  wont  to  be  of  a  like  paleness.  And  I  know 
that  often,  when  I  could  not  v/eep  nor  in  any  way  give  ease  to 
mine  anguish,  I  went  to  look  upon  this  lady,  who  seemed  to 
bring  the  tears  into  mine  eyes  by  the  mere  sight  of  her.  ...  At 
length,  by  the  constant  sight  of  this  lady,  mine  eyes  began  to  be 
gladdened  overmuch  with  her  company;  through  which  thing 
many  times  I  had  much  unrest  and  rebuked  myself  as  a  base 
person ;  also  many  times  I  cursed  the  unsteadfastness  of  mine 
eyes.  .  .  .  The  sight  of  this  lady  brought  me  into  so  unwonted 
a  condition  that  I  often  thought  of  her  as  of  one  too  dear  unto 
me;  and  I  began  to  consider  her  thus:  'This  lady  is  young, 
beautiful,  gentle,  and  wise  :  perchance  it  was  Love  himself  who 

^  "FiVZi  una  gentil  donna,  giovane  e  heUa  molio,  la  quale  da  una  fenestra  mi 
riguardava  molio  pi ctosamentc  quanV  alia  vista;  sicchd  tutta  la  pietade  parcva  in 
lei  accolta.''^  Dante  uses  gentile  iu  the  old  English  sense  of  noble,  and  gcnti- 
lezza  and  nohiltd  as  synonymous. 


294  DANTE   ALIGHIERI. 

set  her  in  my  path,  that  so  my  life  might  find  peace/  And 
there  were  times  when  I  thouglit  yet  more  fondly,  until  ray 
heart  consented  unto  this  reasoning." 

He  then  describes  in  a  sonnet  the  battle  between  reason  and 
appetite,  and  a  vision  of  '^  the  most  gracious  Beatrice,"  which 
led  him  painfully  to  repent  of  his  evil  desire.  From  this  time 
on  his  thoughts  turned  again  to  Beatrice  with  his  whole  humbled 
and  ashamed  heart.  He  concludes  the  Vita  Nuova  with  a  won- 
derful vision,  which  determined  him  "  to  say  nothing  further  of 
this  most  blessed  lady  until  such  time  when  he  could  discourse 
more  worthily  of  her  who  now  gazes  continually  on  the  counte- 
nance of  God,  blessed  for  ever.     Laus  Deo.'' 

In  the  Banquet,  which  was  written  several  years  later,  he  refers 
to  the  same  gentle  lady,  and  remarks  that  she  appeared  to  him 
a  year  after  the  death  of  Beatrice,  who  ''  lives  in  heaven  with 
the  angels,  and  on  earth  with  his  soul,"  and  that  she  was 
accompanied  by  Amor  and  took  possession  of  his  mind.^ 

This  is  a  clear  hint  at  the  sensual  character  of  his  new  love. 

In  the  same  Banquet  he  tells  us  that  after  the  death  of 
Beatrice  he  read  for  his  comfort  the  famous  book  of  Boethius 
on  the  Consolation  of  JPhilosophy,  and  Cicero's  treatise  on 
Friendship,  and  speaks  of  the  philosophy  of  these  authors  as  "a 
gentle  lady."  And  he  describes  her  as  ''  the  daughter  of  God, 
the  queen  of  all,  the  most  noble  and  most  beautiful  philosophy."'^ 

Connecting  these  passages,  it  is  very  evident  that  the  gentle  and 
piteous  lady  has  a  double  character,  like  Beatrice,  but  is  in  some 
respects  her  counterpart.  Dante  himself  says  at  the  close  of  the 
first  sonnet  addressed  to  the  compassionate  lady  : — 

'  'Lo  !  with  this  lady  dwells  the  counterpart 
Of  the  same  Love  who  holds  me  weeping  now. ' ' 

The  fair  lady  of  the  window  was  an  actual  being,  a  Florentine 

^Convito,  Trattato  Secondo,  cap,  2  (ed,  Fraticelli,  p.  Ill)  :  ^^  quell n  gent il 
donna.,  di  cui  feci  menzione  nella  fine  dclla  '  Vita  Naova.,^  apparve  pyimamente 
accompagnata  d'Amore  agll  ocehi  miei,  e  prese  alcnno  luogo  nella  mia  mentc.''^ 
This  refereuce  sets  aside  the  supposition  of  two  distinct  ladies. 

^  II.  13  :  "^  immnginava  lei  fatta  come  una  donna  gentile  :  c  nan  la  pofea 
immaginare  in  atto  aleiino,  se  non  mi.^erieordioso  .  .  .  Qiiesta  donna  fu  J'iglia  d' 
Iddio,  regina  di  tatto,  nohilissiina  e  bellissima  filosofia.''^ 


DANTE   ALIGHIERI.  295 

beauty  of  flesh  and  blood,  and  at  the  same  time  a  symbol  of 
philosophy  as  represented  by  Cicero  and  Boethius.  She  symbol- 
izes sensual  love  and  worldly  wisdom  ;  while  Beatrice  symbolizes 
ideal  lov^e  and  heavenly  wisdom.  We  have  again  here  a  combi- 
nation of  the  literal  or  historical  with  the  spiritual  or  allegorical 
sense  which  runs  through  Dante's  whole  poem  and  the  events  of 
his  life. 

We  reject  therefore  the  notion  that  the  Donna  Pietosa  was 
merely  an  abstract  symbol  of  philosophy^  or  skepticism^,  or  some- 
thing higher.^  Nor  can  we  identify  her  with  Gemma  Donati  / 
for  how  could  he  reproach  himself  for  loving  his  legitimate  wife 
and  the  mother  of  his  children  ?  She  must  have  been  a  different 
lady  who  captivated  him  between  the  death  of  Beatrice  and  his 
marriage.  She  was  probably  that  "  little  girl  ^^  [pargoletia),  or 
other  transient  vanity  {altra  vanitd  eon  si  breve  uso),  for  which 
he  was  reproved  by  Beatrice.^ 

It  is  useless  to  deny  that  Dante  went  astray  for  a  period  from 
the  path  of  purity  and  the  love  of  Beatrice.  Boccaccio,  his  first 
biographer  and  commentator,  who  lived  in  Florence,  reports  that 

^  George  B.  Carpenter,  the  most  recent  investigator  of  this  sulyect,  comes  to 
the  conclusion  that  she  is  simply  "a  symbol  of  Dante's  love  for  and  study  of 
philosophy,  which  began  in  September,  1291,  and  came  to  a  sudden  close  in 
1298."  See  his  Episode  of  the  Donna  Pietosa,  in  the  "  Eighth  Annual  Report 
of  the  Dante  Society,"  Cambridge,  Mass.,  1889,  p.  75.  But  Dante's  study  of 
philosophy  did  not  come  to  a  close  in  1298  ;  it  runs  through  the  whole 
Dicina  Commedia. 

2  So  Scartazzini,  who,  however,  distinguishes  two  "gentle  ladies." 

2  Some  Italian  theological  commentators  have  identified  her  with  7a  grnzia 
prcveniente,  la  pietosa  orazione,  la  clemenza  diuina,  and  even  with  Maria 
Virgine  ! 

'^  So  Rossetti  in  Dante  and  his  Circle,  p.  101,  note. 

^  Purg.  XXXI.,  58-60  :— 

"  Thou  oughtest  not  to  have  stooped  thy  pinions  downward 
To  wait  for  further  blows,  or  little  girl. 
Or  other  vanity  of  such  brief  use." 
"There  is,"  says  Longfellow  (ii.,  365),  "a  good  deal  of  gossiping  among 
commentators  about  this  little  girl  or  jxirgoletta.''^     He  takes  it  as  a  collective 
term  (with  Ottimo),  and  includes  in  it  the  lady  of  Bologna,  of  whom  Dante 
sings  in  one  of  his  sonnets  : 

' '  And  I  may  say 
Tliat  in  an  evil  hour  I  saw  Bologna, 
And  that  fair  lady  whom  I  looked  upon." 


296  DANTE  ALIGHIERI. 

he  was  much  giv^en  to  sensuality.-^  This  testimony  is  confirmed 
by  Dante's  own  son,  Jacopo^,  and  by  a  sonnet  of  his  friend 
Ouido  Cavalcanti,  who  reproaches  him  with  falling  from  his 
'^  many  virtues  ''  into  an  ^^  abject  life/'^  But  the  strongest  proof 
we  have  in  the  Dlvina  Commedia,  which  is  autobiographic  and 
implies  his  own  need  of  purification  and  Divine  pardon.  He 
puts  into  the  mouth  of  Beatrice,  when  she  meets  him  on  the 
mountain  of  Purgatory ,  the  following  severe  reproof: — 

"  Some  time  did  I  sustain  him  witli  my  look  ; 
Revealing  unto  liim  my  youthful  eyes, 
I  led  him  with  me  turned  in  the  right  way. 

As  soon  as  ever  of  my  second  age 

I  was  upon  the  threshold  and  changed  life, 
Himself  from  me  he  took  and  gave  to  others. 

When  from  the  flesh  to  spirit  I  ascended. 

And  heauty  and  virtue  were  in  me  increased, 
I  was  to  him  less  dear  and  less  delightful ; 

And  into  ways  untrue  he  turned  his  steps, 
Pursuing  the  false  images  of  good, 
That  never  any  promises  fulfil ; 

Nor  prayer  for  inspiration  me  availed, 

By  means  of  which  in  dreams  and  otherwise 
I  called  him  back,  so  little  did  he  heed  them. 

So  low  he  fell,  that  all  appliances 

For  his  salvation  were  already  short, 
Save  showing  him  the  people  of  perdition. 

For  this  I  visited  the  gates  of  death, 

And  unto  him,  who  so  far  up  hath  led  him. 
My  intercessions  were  with  Aveeping  borne. 

God's  lofty  fiat  would  be  violated, 

If  Lethe  should  be  passed,  and  if  such  viands 
Should  tasted  be,  withouten  any  scot 

Of  penitence,  that  gushes  forth  in  tears.  "^ 

^  ^^moUo  dedito  alia  liissiaia.'" 

2  In  an  unpublished  commentary  on  the  Inferno  in  the  National  Library  of 
Paris,  as  quoted  by  Ozanam,  in  Les  Focics  Frauciscains,  p.  35G  sq.,  tliird  edi- 
tion, Jacopo  says  that  Avhen  Dante  began  tlie  Commedia  he  was  "  jjrcca/ore  c 
vizioso,  e  era  quasi  in  una  sehxi  di  vizi  e  dHpioranza,^^  and  a  man  avIio  lived 
carnally  (carnalmcnte  vive),  but  that  after  his  ascent  to  the  mountain  of  true 
knowledge  and  true  love  he  left  "  questa  vallc  e  vita  di  miseria.^^ 

•'  The  sonnet  is  translated  in  Kossctti's  Farly  Falian  Foels,  p.  o38,  and  in 
Longfellow's  7>n//r,  ii.,  ;>()4. 

■*  Fur(j.^  XXX.,  121-145.  Longfellow's  translation.  Compare  Canto  xxxi., 
37-G.'>,  where  Leatrice  continues  her  censure  of  Dante. 


DANTE  ALIGHIEEI.  297 

"  Pricked  bv  the  thorn  of  penitence,"  and  "  stung  at  the  heart 
by  self-conviction/'^  Dante  makes  his  confession,  falls  to  the 
ground,  and  is  drawn  neck-deep  by  Matilda  through  the  river 
Lethe  to  be  cleansed.  On  the  other  shore  he  is  presented  first 
to  the  four  nymphs,  who  symbolize  the  four  natural  virtues; 
these  in  turn  lead  him  to  the  Gryphon,  a  symbol  of  the  Divine- 
human  Saviour,  where  Beatrice  is  standing;  and  three  virgins, 
who  represent  the  evangelical  virtues  of  faith,  hope  and  love, 
intercede  for  him  with  Beatrice  that  she  would  display  to  him 
her  second  beauty.^ 

Most  of  the  Dante  scholars  refer  these  reproaches  and  confes- 
sions to  practical  transgressions.^ 

Dante's  aberrations  were  probably  confined  to  the  transition 
period  from  Beatrice's  death  and  the  early  part  of  his  political 
life  to  his  exile,  and  are  not  inconsistent  with-  the  testimonies  in 
favor  of  his  many  virtues.^ 

The  self-accusations  and  repentance  of  Dante,  like  the  confes- 
sions of  St.  Augustin,  impart  a  personal  interest  to  his  Corn- 
media,  bring  him  nearer  to  our  sympathy  and  lessen  his  guilt.'^ 

^  Purg. ,  XXXI.,  35,  38  sqq.  ^  Ihicl,  XXXI. ,  130  sqq. 

3  Gary,  Longfellow,  Lowell,  Plumptre,  Ozanam,  D'Ancona,  Carducci, 
Eossetti,  Philalethes,  Witte,  Wegele,  Bollinger,  Scheffer-Boichorst,  and  others. 
AVitte  takes  a  comprehensive  view  and  combines  philosophical,  political  and 
erotic  aberrations.  ^^  Es  ware  ein  Inihiim,^^  he  says  {D.  A.  Gditl.  Kom.,  p. 
20),  ''iccnn  mandie  Entfremdung  von  dcm  Andenken  an  Beatrice,  dcrcn  Dante 
sich  selber  anklagt,  ausscldicsslich  in  pltilosopliiseh-theordisclien  Untersuchungen 
finden  icollte.  Gewiss  habcn  wir  dabei  zugleich  an  cin  wcJtlichcs  Treihen  von 
mancJierlei  Art  [Eegefeuer,  XXiil.,  115),  an  IcidcnscJiaftliche  Bcthciligung  hei 
den  Parteikdmpfen  und  mehr  dergJeichen  zu  denken  ;  auch  ist  kein  Grund  vor- 
handcn,  neuanfkeimende  Ncigungen  zu  anderen  Frauen  {Eegefeuer,  xxxi.,  58) 
auszuschliessen.^^     Compare  the  notes  of  Longfellow  on  Purged.  XXX. 

^  Melchiore  Stefano  Coppi  says  that  Dante  led  a  moral  life  {moredmcnte 
visse),  and  Sebastiano  Eugubiuus,  that  he  excelled  by  gifts  of  nature  and 
every  virtue  {inter  Jiumana  ingenia  ncdurx  dotihus  corruscantem  et  omnium 
morum  liahitihus  rutilantem). 

5  He  alludes  to  St.  Augustin  in  the  Convito  i,  2  :  "The  other  case  [in  which 
speaking  of  oneself  is  allowable]  is  when  the  greatest  good  may  come  to 
others  by  the  teaching  conveyed  ;  and  this  reason  moved  Augustin  in  his 
Confessions  to  speak  of  himself;  since  in  the  course  of  liis  life,  which  was 
from  bad  to  good,  and  from  good  to  better,  and  from  better  to  Ijest,  he  set 
forth  an  example  and  instruction,  to  which  Ave  could  have  no  such  true  testi- 
mony."    St.  Augustin  is  mentioned  in  Par.  x.,  120,  and  XXXil.,  35. 


298  DANTE  ALIGHIERL 

"  0  noble  conscience  and  without  a  stain, 
How  sharp  a  sting  is  trivial  flmlt  to  thee."  ^ 

DANTE'S  EDUCATION. 

Dante  received  a  good  education,  and  was  a  profound  student. 
He  passed  tlirough  the  usual  course  of  the  Trivium  and  Ouad- 
rivium.  He  studied  grammar,  rhetoric,  music,  clironology, 
astronomy  (or  astrology  rather),  medicine,  and  the  old  Roman 
classics,  especially  Virgil  and  Cicero.  He  learned  a  few  Greek  and 
Hebrew  words,  but  depended  for  his  knowledge  of  the  Bible, 
with  nearly  all  the  Christian  scholars  of  the  Middle  xAges,  on  the 
Vulgate  of  Jerome.  He  mastered  the  philosophy  of  Aristotle 
(in  Latin  translations),  and  the  theology  of  Thomas  i^quinas. 
He  had  an  encyclopsedic  knowledge  of  the  learning  of  his  age, 
and  worked  it  up  into  an  independent  organic  view  of  the 
universe.  The  best  proof  he  gives  in  his  Convito.  But  his 
knowledge  of  history  was  very  limited  and  inaccurate.  He 
believed  with  his  whole  age  in  the  false  donation  of  Constantine, 
and  made  no  distinction  between  facts,  legends  and  myths. 

He  attended  the  schools  of  his  native  city,  which  was  the 
centre  of  intellectual  life  in  Italy,  and  probably  also  the  Uni- 
versities of  Bologna,  Padua,  and  Paris,  although  the  date  is  un- 
certain.    His  visit  to  Oxford  is  more  than  doubtful. 

His  principal  teacher  in  Florence  was  Brunetto  Latini  (d.  1294), 
to  whom  he  addressed  a  sonnet,  accompanied  by  a  copy  of  the 
Vita  Nuova?  He  is  described  by  Villani  (in  his  Cronica)  as  a 
worthy  citizen,  a  great  philosopher  and  perfect  master  of  rhetoric 
both  in  speaking  and  writing,  also  as  the  first  master  in  refining 
the  Florentines,  and  teaching  them  to  speak  correctly  and  to 
govern  the  Republic  on  political  principles.  He  wrote  several 
books,  among  them  a  poem  in  a  jingling  metre,  the  Tesoretto, 
which  describes  a  vision,  with  the  customary  allegorical  person- 
ages of  the  Virtues  and  Vices.  He  is  sup[)osed  by  some  to  have 
sup:p:ested  to  Dante  the  first  idea  of  the  Commedla. 


•tote^ 


Furgat.,  ill.,  8,  9  (Witte's  text)  :— 

"  0  diynitosa  coscicnza  e  ncHa, 
Come  V t  picciol  fallo  amaro  morso  !  " 
Translated  l)y  Kossetti,  in  Dcnite  and  his  Circle,  p.  110,  beginning 
''  Master  Brunetto,  this  my  little  maid." 


DANTE   ALIGHIERl.  299 

But — strange  to  say — Dante  placed  him  in  Hell  for  a  sin 
against  nature,  and  forever  branded  him  with  the  mark  of 
infamy.-^  We  may  admire  tlie  stern  impartiality  of  justice,  but 
it  would  have  been  far  better  if  he  had  covered  the  name  of  his 
teacher  and  friend  with  the  charity  of  silence. 

Dante  passed  through  a  period  of  skepticism,  which  tempted 
independent  thinkers  even  in  those  ages  of  faith.  He  substi- 
tuted, as  he  informs  us  in  the  Convito^  philosophy  for  faith, 
classical  literature  for  the  Bible  and  the  Fathers,  Athens  for 
Jerusalem.  The  study  of  natural  science  and  of  medicine  eman- 
cipates from  superstition,  but  often  tends  towards  materialism 
and  pantheism;  hence  the  proverb  which  originated  in  the 
period  of  the  Renaissance,  if  not  earlier  :  "  Where  are  three 
physicians,  there  are  two  atheists."^ 

But  Dante,  like  all  truly  profound  intellects,  returned  to  faith, 
and  verified  Bacon's  maxim,  that  philosophy  superficially  tasted 
leads  away  from  God,  thoroughly  studied,  leads  back  to  God.^ 
He  subordinated  philosophy  to  theology,  regarding  it  as  the 
handmaid  of  religion,  and  retained  a  profound  regard  for  Aris- 
totle and  Yirgil. 

HIS  MARRIAGE. 

In  1292,  two  years  after  the  death  of  Beatrice,  in  the  27th 
year  of  his  life,  according  to  others  in  1294,  he  married  Gemma 
Donati,  who  bore  him  at  least  four  children  (some  reports  say 
six,  others  seven).  Two  sons,  Pietro  and  Jacopo,  and  two 
daughters,  Imperia  and  Beatrice,  survived  him.  Beatrice  became 
a  Franciscan  nun  at  Ravenna,  and  received  some  aid  from  the 
city  of  Florence  through  Boccacio. 

Dante  never  mentions  his  wife,  nor  did  he  see  her  after  his 
exile.  This  silence  has  given  rise  to  the  suspicion,  supported  by 
Boccaccio,  that  she  was  a  Xanthippe,  or  at  all  events  that  he 
was  unfortunate  in  his  domestic  relations,  like  Socrates,  Milton, 
Goethe,  Byron,  Dickens,  Carlyle,  and  other  men  of  genius,  who 
are  apt  to  move  in  an  ideal  world  above  the  prosy  realities  and 

1  Inferno  XV.,  30  sqq. ;  101  sqq. 

2  ^'Uli  ires  mcdici^  duo  athei.'^ 

3  ^^  Philosophia,  obiter  Ubata,  ahducit  a  Deo,  penitus  hausta,  reducit  ad 
eundemy 


300  DANTE  ALIGHIEEL 

homely  duties  of  ordinary  life.  It  is  quite  likely  that  she  could 
not  appreciate  him,  or  she  would  have  followed  him  into 
exile.  But  in  this  case,  silence  on  his  part  was  kinder  than 
speech,  and  his  poverty  would  go  far  to  explain,  if  not  to 
excuse,  the  permanent  separation  from  his  family,  which  it  was 
his  duty  to  support. 

A  highly  gifted  German  lady,  who  translated  the  Divina 
Commedia  within  the  brief  space  of  sixteen  months,-^  has  taken 
up  the  cause  of  Dante's  wife  in  a  remarkable  poem,  of  which 
I  2:ive  the  first  and  last  stanzas  : — 

"On  every  tongue  is  Beatrice's  name  : 

Of  thee,  much  sorrowing  one,  no  song  doth  tell ; 
The  pang  of  parting  like  a  keen  dart  came, 
And  pierced  thee  with  a  wound  invisible  : 
Art  brings  her  incense  to  the  fair. 
Virtue  must  wait  her  crown  in  heaven  to  wear. 


Yes,  thou  brave  woman,  mother  of  his  sons, 
'Twas  thine  to  know  the  weight  of  daily  care  ; 

'Twas  thine  to  understand  those  piteous  tones, 
Thine  much  to  suffer,  all  in  silence  bear  ; 

How  great  thy  grief,  thy  woes  how  manifold, 

God  only  knows — of  them  no  song  hath  told." 

DANTE  IN  PUBLIC  LIFE. 

The  public  life  of  Dante  was  a  disastrous  failure.  He 
plunged  himself  into  the  whirlpool  of  party  politics.  Poetry 
and  politics  rarely  agree ;  the  one  or  the  other  must  suffer  by 
the  contact.  The  one  is  soaring  to  the  skies,  the  other  cleaves  to 
the  earth.  Dante  was  a  man  of  much  uncommon  sense,  but 
of  little  common  sense  which,  in  practical  life,  is  far  more 
important  than  the  former. 

Dante  joined  the  guild  of  Physicians  and  Apothecaries,  being 
familiar  with  their  arts,  and  his  name  was  entered  in  1295  as 

^  Josepliavon  Iloffinger,  born  at  Vienna,  1820,  died  in  186(5,  in  consequence 
of  lier  over-exertions  in  nursing  the  sick  and  wounded  during  the  war 
between  Austria  and  Prussia.  She  studied  theology  with  Dolliuger.  Her 
translation  of  Dante  appeared  as  a  contribution  to  the  sixth  centenary  of 
Dante,  at  Vienna  (liraumUller),  18G5,  in  3  small  vols,  with  brief  notes.  See 
Piumptre's  Danlc,  n.,  492,  where  her  poem  on  Dante's  wife  is  translated. 


DANTE   ALIGHIEKL  301 

"  the  poet  of  Florence''  (poeta  Fiorentino).  It  was  one  of  the 
seven  guilds  which  controlled  the  city.  In  1299  he  was  sent 
as  ambassador  to  the  Coramiineof  S.  Gemignano  to  settle  a  dis- 
pute. This  is  the  only  embassy  before  that  to  Rome,  of  which 
we  have  documentary  evidence;  other  embassies  to  Siena,  Genoa, 
Perugia,  Ferrara,  Venice,  Naples,  and  to  foreign  kings,  reported 
by  some  writers  (Filelfo,  Balbo),  are  mere  myths,  or  at  least'very 
doubtful.  He  was  not  long  enough  in  political  life  to  fulfill  so 
many  missions,  and  daring  the  seven  years  from  129-4  to  1301 
he  seems  to  have  been  in  Florence. 

In  1300  he  was  elected  one  of  the  six  Priori  delle  Arti,  who 
ruled  the  city  for  two  months  at  a  time.  The  Signory  of  Flor- 
ence was  composed  of  seven  persons,  namely,  six  Priors  of  pro- 
fessions, and  one  Gonfaloniere  of  justice.  They  were  subject  to 
the  popular  will  and  an  assembly  of  nobles  called  the  Council 
of  the  Hundred.  Dante  was  to  hold  office  from  June  15th 
to  August  15th.  His  colleagues  were  insignificant  persons, 
scarcely  known  by  name.  From  that  appointment  to  the  prior- 
ship,  he  dated  the  beginning  of  his  misfortunes. 

The  little  aristocratic  Republic  of  Florence  was  involved  in 
the  great  contest  between  the  Guelfs  (Guelji,  Welfen,  from  Wolf, 
a  family  name)  and  the  Ghibellines  (Ghibellini,  Ghibellhien,  from 
Waiblingen,  the  patrimonial  castle  of  Conrad  of  Hohenstaufen, 
in  Swabia),  or  between  the  Papists  and  the  Imperialists.  This 
contest  may  be  dated  from  the  time  of  Pope  Gregory  VII.  and 
Emperor  Henry  IV.  and  the  humiliating  scene  at  Canossa,  and 
continued  for  three  or  four  hundred  years.  It  caused  7200 
revolutions  and  more  than  700  wholesale  murders  in  Italy .^ 
Every  city  of  Italy  was  torn  by  factions  headed  by  petty  tyrants. 
Every  Italian  was  born  to  an  inheritance  of  hatred  and  revenge, 
and  could  not  avoid  sharing:  in  the  fio;ht.  The  war  between  the 
Guelfs  and  Ghibellines,  under  its  general  and  most  comprehen- 
sive aspect,  was  a  war  for  the  supremacy  of  Church  or  State  in 
temporal  matters.  Boniface  VIII.,  who  ascended  the  chair  of 
St.  Peter  in  1294,  and  celebrated  the  first  papal  Jubilee  in  1300, 

^  This  calculation  has  been  made  by  Ferrari,  Histoire  des  revolutioyis  d'  Italic, 
ou  Guelfes  et  Ghibelins,  Paris,  1858,  4  vols,  (quoted  by  Dollinger,  AJMd.  Vor- 
trdge,  i.,  117.) 


302  DAXTE  ALIGHIERI. 

claimed  the  two  swords  of  the  Apostles  (Luke  xxii.  38),  the 
spiritual  aud  the  temporal ;  the  spiritual  sword  to^be  wielded  by 
the  })ope  directly,  the  temporal  to  be  wielded  by  the  emperor,  but 
under  the  pope's  authority.  The  Imperialists  maintained  the 
divine  origin  and  independent  authority  of  the  State  in  all 
things  temporal.  They  anticipated  the  modern  theory  which 
has  come  to  prevail  since  the  sixteenth  century. 

Besides  this,  there  was  in  Florence  a  local  family  quarrel 
between  the  party  of  Corso  Donati,  called  the  Neri  or  Blacks,  and 
the  party  of  Bianco,  called  the  Bianchi  (also  Cerchi)  or  Whites. 
Florence  was  predominantly  Guelf.  Dante  himself  belonged 
originally  to  that  party,  and  fought  for  it  in  1289,  at  the  battle 
of  Campaldino,  and  at  the  siege  of  the  castle  of  Caprona  ;  but 
when  the  Bianchi  families  united  with  the  Ghibellines,  he  joined 
them,  with  the  reservation  of  a  certain  independence.^  Pope 
Boniface  VIII.  interfered  with  the  government  of  Florence,  and 
threw  all  his  influence  in  favor  of  the  Neri  and  Guelfs. 

Dante  and  his  fiv^e  obscure  colleagues  acted  with  strict  impar- 
tiality, and  banished  the  leaders  of  both  factions.  This  is  the  only 
memorable  act  in  his  political  career,  and  it  proved  fatal  to  him. 
Both  parties  plotted  against  him.  The  banished  Corso  Donati, 
the  gran  harone  of  Florence,  was  determined  on  revenge,  and 
appealed  to  Pope  Boniface,  who  eagerly  accepted  the  opportunity 
of  dividing  and  governing  the  cities  of  Tuscany. 

Dante  was  sent  \\\i\\  three  others  to  Rome  by  the  Priors  who 
held  office  from  Aug.  15th  to  Oct.  15th,  1301.  He  was  to  o})pose 
the  coming  of  Charles  of  Valois,  brother  of  King  Philip  of 
France,  or  to  induce  him  to  wait  for  the  consent  of  the  ruling 
party.  On  that  occasion  he  uttered  the  proud  word  of  contempt : 
^'If  I  go,  who  is  to  remain  ;  if  I  remain,  who  is  to  go?''  This 
saying  was  treasured  up  and  promoted  his  ruin. 

He  went  to  Pome  without  dreaming  that  he  was  never  to 
return  to  his  native  city,  never  to  see  his  family,  never  to  sit 
again  on  the  Sasso  di  Dante  in  the  Piazza  of  the  magnificent 

^  Boccaccio  represents  him  as  a  most  violent  Ghibelliue,  from  his  exile  until 
his  death  (see  Longfellow,  I.,  222)  ;  but  this  is  inconsistent  with  his  friend- 
ship for  Guido  da  Polenta,  who  was  a  Guelf,  and  with  his  impartial  distri- 
bution of  members  of  both  parties  to  the  places  of  i^unishment  or  reward. 


DANTE  ALIGHIERI.  803 

catLedral  of  Santa  Maria  del  Fiore,  whose  foundations  had  been 
laid  a  few  years  before  (1298). 

THE  BAXISIDIEXT.     DANTE  AND  BONIFACE  YIII. 

On  Xov.  1st,  1301,  Charles  of  Yalois  entered  Florence  bv 
authority  of  the  Pope,  under  the  title  of  ^^  Pacifier  of  Tuscany/^ 
With  his  aid  the  Guelf  or  Donati  party  triumphed. 

Dante  and  three  of  his  colleagues  in  office  as  Priori  were 
banished  from  Tuscany  for  two  years,  and  declared  incapable  of 
holding  any  public  office,  on  the  charge  of  extortion,  embezzle- 
ment, and  corruption,  and  of  having  resisted  the  Pope  and 
expelled  the  Xeri,  the  faithful  servants  of  the  Poi)e.  Having 
been  cited  for  trial  and  not  appearing,  they  were  also  fined  5000 
florins  each  for  contumacy.  The  sentence  is  dated  January  27th, 
1302.  It  was  repeated  March  10th,  with  the  threat  that  they 
would  be  burnt  alive  if  they  ever  returned  to  the  territory  of 
Florence.     Their  property  was  confiscated. 

The  charges  were  never  proved,  and  were  no  doubt  invented 
or  exaggerated  by  the  party  fanaticism  of  his  enemies.  Dante 
treated  the  charges  with  the  contempt  of  silence.  His  innocence 
is  asserted  by  all  his  biographers,  including  Giovanni  Villani, 
who  was  a  Guelf. 

Dante  spent  several  months  in  Rome.  The  Pope  summoned 
him  and  his  fellow-ambassadors,  and  scolded  them  for  their 
obstinacy,  but  promised  them  his  benediction  on  condition  of 
obedience  to  his  authority.  This  is  all  we  know  about  this 
embassy,  and  even  this  is  very  uncertain.^ 

Dante  assigned  to  Boniface,  for  his  grasping  ambition, 
avarice   and   simony,   a   place   in    hell.^      He   calls    him  ^'  the 

1  Quite  recently  the  fact  of  Dante's  emlDassy  to  Boniface  VIII. ,  which 
rests  on  the  authority  of  Boccaccio  and  Bruni,  has  been  denied  by  Scar- 
tazzini  {Handbook  to  Dante,  transl.  by  Th.  Davidson,  p.  82),  on  the  ground 
chiefly  of  the  silence  of  Giovanni  Villani,  the  contemporary  chronicler 
of  Florence.  If  Dante  was  in  Florence  at  the  time  of  the  catastrophe,  he 
must  have  fled  with  his  political  partisans  after  the  first  sentence  of 
banishment. 

2  Inferno,  XIX.,  53  sqq.  The  Divina  Commedla  was  commenced  in  1300, 
but  not  completed  before  1321  ;  Boniface  died  1303. 


304  DANTE   ALIGHIERI. 

prince  of  modern  Pharisees/^  ^  and  a  usurper,  who  turned  the 
cemetery  of  St.  Peter  (that  is,  the  Vatican  hill)  into  a  common 
sewer.^ 

This  was  the  pope  who  asserted,  but  could  no  longer  main- 
tain, the  most  extravagant  claims  of  divine  authority  over  the 
church  and  the  world,  and  marks  the  beginning  of  the  decline 
of  the  papacy  from  such  a  giddy  height.  He  frightened  Celes- 
tine  into  a  resignation,  and  was  inaugurated  with  extraordinary 
pomp,  riding  on  a  white  horse  instead  of  an  humble  ass,  two 
kings  holding  the  bridle,  but  amidst  a  furious  hurricane  which 
extinguished  every  lamp  and  torch  in  St.  Peter's.  A  similar 
storm  interrupted  the  crowning  ceremony  of  the  Vatican 
Council  in  1870,  when  Pope  Pius  IX.  read  the  decree  of  his 
own  infallibility  by  candle-light  in  midnight  darkness. 

Yet  Dante  did  not  spare  his  righteous  wrath  against  Philip 
the  Fair  of  France,  that  '^  modern  Pilate,''  who  with  sacrile- 
gious violence  seized  the  aged  Boniface  at  Anagni, 

"  And  Christ  in  his  own  Yicar  captive  made."^ 


DANTE  IN  EXILE. 
Dante  learned  the  sentence  of  his  banishment  at  Siena,  on 
his  return  from  Rome,  probably  in  April,  1302.  The  other 
exiles  joined  him  and  engaged  with  the  Ghibellines  in  vain  plots 
for  a  recovery  of  power.  ^^  Florence,"  he  said,  ^'  we  must  re- 
cover :  Florence  for  Italy,  and  Italy  for  the  world."  They 
established  a  provisional  government,  raised  an  army  and  made 


^  Inferno,  xxvii.,  85. 

2  Farad.  ^  xxvil.,  22-27,  where  St.  Peter  says  : 

' '  He  who  usurps  upon  the  earth  my  place, 

My  place,  my  place,  which  vacant  has  become 
Before  the  presence  of  the  Son  of  God, 
Has  of  my  cemetery  made  a  sewer 

Of  blood  and  stench,  wherel)y  the  Perverse  One, 
Who  fell  from  hence,  below  there  is  a^ipeased  !  " 

{^^''Faito  ha  del  cimiterio  mio  cloaca 

Del  san(/uc  e  della  puzza;  onde  il  per  verso, 
Che  cadde  di  quassu,  lagrjiu,  {i.  c,  nclV  inferno)  si  placa. '''''] 
^  Furg.,  XX.,  87  sciq. 


DANTE  ALIGHIERI.  305 

two  attacks  upon  Florence,  but  were  defeated,  and  the  prisoners 
were  slaughtered  without  mercy. 

Dante  became  discouraged,  and  finally  withdrew  from  all  par- 
ties. He  always  was  a  patriot  rather  than  a  partisan,  and  tried 
to  reconcile  parties  for  the  good  of  the  country.  He  esteemed 
patriotism  as  the  highest  natural  virtue,  and  abhorred  treason  as 
the  most  hideous  crime,  worthy  of  a  place  with  Judas  in  the 
lowest  depth  of  hell. 

The  confiscation  of  his  property  left  him  and  his  family 
destitute  ;  but  his  wife,  being  of  the  wealthy  Donati  family,  may 
have  recovered  a  portion  under  the  plea  of  a  settlement  for 
dowry. 

From  the  time  of  his  banishment  to  his  death,  a  period  of 
nearly  twenty  years,  Dante  wandered  through  Upper  and  Middle 
Italy  from  city  to  city,  from  court  to  court,  from  convent  to  con- 
vent, a  poor,  homeless  and  homesick  exile,  with  the  sentence 
of  death  by  fire  hanging  over  him ;  everywhere  meeting 
friends  and  admirers  among  Ghibellines  and  those  who  could 
appreciate  poetry  and  virtue,  but  also  enemies  and  detractors, 
finding  rest  and  happiness  nowhere  except  in  the  study  of  truth 
and  the  contemplation  of  eternity.  "  Florence,"  he  says  in  his 
Convito  (i.  3),  "  the  beautiful  city,  the  famous  daughter  of  Rome, 
has  rejected  me  from  her  sweet  bosom,  where  I  was  born,  where 
I  grew  to  middle  life,  and  where,  if  it  may  please  her,  I  wish 
from  my  heart  to  end  my  life  and  then  to  rest  my  weary  soul; 
Through  almost  all  parts  where  our  language  is  spoken,  I 
have  gone,  a  wanderer,  well-nigh  a  beggar,  showing  against 
my  will  the  wounds  of  fortune.  Truly  I  have  been  a  vessel 
without  sail  or  rudder,  driven  to  divers  ports  and  shores  by  that 
hot  blast,  the  breath  of  dolorous  poverty.'^  It  must  have  been 
hard,  very  hard  indeed,  for  such  a  proud  spirit  to  eat  the  salty 
bread  of  others,  and  to  go  up  and  down  the  stairs  of  strangers.-^ 
He  fully  experienced  the  bitter  truth  of  the  words  of  Ecclesias- 

1  Farad.,  XVII.,  58-60  : 

"  Thou  shalt  have  proof  how  savoreth  of  salt  {sa  di  sale) 
The  bread  of  others,  and  how  hard  a  road 
The  going  down  and  up  another's  stairs." 

20 


306  DANTE   ALIGHIERI. 

ticiis :  "  It  is  a  miserable  thing  to  go  from  house  to  house  ;  for 
where  thou  art  a  stranger,  thou  darest  not  open  thy  mouth.  .  .  . 
My  son,  lead  not  a  beggar's  life,  for  better  is  it  to  die  than  to 

beg." 

When  stopping  at  the  convent  of  Santa  Croce  del  Corvo  and 
asked  by  the  prior  what  he  wanted,  he  replied :  "  Peace."  ^ 

And  yet  it  was  during  this  sad  period  of  exile  that  he  wrote 
his  Divina  Commedia.  It  brought  him  no  earthly  reward  (for 
authorship  was  unprofitable  in  the  Middle  Ages),  but  immortal 
fame.  It  was  truly  a  child  of  sorrow  and  grief,  like  many  of 
the  greatest  and  most  enduring  works  of  man.     For — 

''^Poesie  ist  tiefes  Schmerzen, 

Und  es  hoinmt  das  sclwnste  Lied 
Nur  aus  emem  Menscheiiherzen, 

Das  eiri  schweres  Leid  durchglUhV^^ 

He  seems  to  have  spent  most  of  the  years  of  his  banishment  in 
Bologna,  Padua,  and  Verona,  studying  every  where  and  gathering 
local  and  historical  information  for  his  great  poem.  He  probably 
visited  Paris  also  about  the  year  1309,  and  buried  himself  in 
theological  study.  Other  reports  place  this  visit  before  his  exile. 
Perhaps  he  was  there  twice.  The  chronicler  Yillani  simply 
says :  "  Dante  was  expelled  and  banished  from  Florence,  and 
went  to  study  at  Bologna,  and  then  to  Paris,  and  into  several 
parts  of  the  world.''    Boccaccio's  account  is  vague  and  confused. 

The  expedition  of  Emperor  Henry  VII.,  of  Luxemburg,  to 
Italy  in  1310,  excited  in  him  the  hope  of  the  overthrow  of  the 
Guelfs  and  the  realization  of  his  theory  on  the  Monarchy,  that 
is,  the  temporal  supremacy  of  the  holy  Roman  Empire  in  inde- 
pendent connection  with  the  Catholic  Church.  He  hailed  him 
as  a  "  Second  Moses,"  who  was  called  to  heal  Italy,  which  had 
been  without  an  emperor  since  the  extinction  of  the  house  of 

^  Justinus  Kerner,  the  Swabian  poet  and  friend  of  Uhlaud  and  Schwab. 
Eemember  also  Goethe's — 

* '  Wer  nie  sein  Brot  mit  Thrlinen  ass, 
Wer  nie  die  kummervollen  Ndchte 
Auf  seinem  Beite  iveinend  sass, 

Der  kennt  euch  nicJit,  ihr  Jiimmlischen  Mdclite.'''' 


DANTE  ALIGHIEKI.  307 

Hoheiistaufen,  and  torn  by  feuds,  civil  wars  and  anarchy/  He 
would  not  recognize  Rudolph  of  Habsburg  (1273-1292),  nor 
Albert  I.  [^^ Alberto  tedesco'\  1298-1308),  as  emperors,  because 
they  never  came  to  Italy  and  were  not  crowned  by  the  pope.  He 
regarded  Frederick  II.  (1220-1250)  as  the  last  emperor,  but 
placed  him  in  Hell  among  the  heretics.^  He  exhorted  Henry 
in  a  letter  to  pursue  energetic  measures  for  the  restoration  of 
peace.  He  addressed  a  letter  to  all  the  rulers  of  Italy,  urging 
them  to  yield  obedience  to  the  new  Caesar  consecrated  by  the 
successor  of  Peter.  But  the  emperor  could  accomplish  nothing. 
He  died — it  was  said  of  poison — Aug.  24th,  1313,  after  a  short 
reign  of  five  years,  near  Siena  and  was  buried  in  the  Campo 
Santo  of  Pisa.^ 

With  his  death  the  cause  of  the  Ghibellines  and  the  political 
aspirations  of  Dante  were  well-nigh  crushed. 

In  the  year  1316  or  1317,  the  government  of  Florence,  in  the 
feeling  of  security,  offered  amnesty  to  political  exiles,  but  on  con- 
dition of  a  fine  and  penance  in  the  church,  thus  degrading  them 
to  a  level  ^vith  criminals.  A  nephew  of  Dante  and  his  friends 
urged  him  to  accept,  but  he  proudly  refused  pardon  at  the 
expense  of  honor. 

1  Schiller  calls  the  interregnum,  from  1254  to  1273,  "rf/e  kaiserlose,  die 
schreckUche  Zeit.''^ 

^  Inf.,  X.,  118-20: 

"Within  here  is  the  second  Frederick, 
And  the  Cardinal  ;  and  of  the  rest  I  speak  not." 

Frederick  11. ,  the  most  brilliant  of  the  Hoheustaufen  emperors,  successively 
the  pupil,  the  enemy  and  the  victim  of  the  papacy,  was  called  by  Pope  Gre- 
gory IX.  "a  beast,  full  of  the  words  of  blasphemy, "  and  accused  of  being  the 
author  of  the  sentence  "  iJ)e  Irihus  Impostoribus^^  (Moses,  Jesus,  Mohammed), 
which  haunted  the  Middle  Ages  like  a  ghost.  "  The  Cardinal "  is  Ottaviano 
degli  Ubaldini,  of  Florence,  who  doubted  the  immortality  of  the  soul.  On 
the  skepticism  of  Frederick  II.,  see  II.  Eeuter's  Geschichte  der  Aufklllrung  im 
3IineMter  (Berlin,  1877),  Vol.  II.,  251-304,  especially  275  sqq.  He  thinks 
that  the  word  about  "  the  three  impostors  "  is  probably  authentic,  but  can- 
not be  proven. 

^  See  Robert  Pohlmanu,  Dcr  Romerzug  Kaiser  Ileinrichs  VII.  und  die  Politik 
der  Curie,  des  Hauses  Anjou  und  der  Welfenliga,  NUrnberg,  1875  ;  and  Georg 
Irmer,  Die  Romfahrt  Kaiser  Ileinrichs  VII,  1881.  They  shed  light  on 
many  obscure  passages  in  the  Purgatorio  and  Paradiso.  See  Plumptie,  I.,  p. 
CXXVIII.  sq. 


308  DANTE   ALIGHIERI. 

"  Has  my  innocence,"  he  wrote  to  a  priest,  "  which  is  manifest 
to  all,  after  nearly  fifteen  years  of  banishment,  deserved  such  a 
recall?  Have  my  incessant  labors  and  studies  deserved  it? 
Far  be  it  from  a  man  familiar  with  philosophy  to  submit  to 
such  indignity.  Far  be  it  from  a  man  who  is  a  preacher  of 
righteousness  and  suffered  injustice,  to  pay  those  who  did  him 
injustice,  as  if  they  were  his  benefactors?  This  is  not  the  way 
to  return  to  my  native  city.  I  will  rather  never  enter  Florence. 
And  what  then  ?  Can  I  not  everywhere  behold  the  mirrors  of 
the  sun  and  the  stars  ?  Can  I  not  everywhere  study  the  sweetest 
truths  rather  than  render  myself  inglorious,  yea,  most  ignomini- 
ous to  the  people  and  commonwealth  of  Florence  ?  Nor  will 
bread  fail  me.^^  ^ 

CAN  GRANDE,  THE  YELTRO,  AND  THE  DUX. 

In  the  year  1317,  Dante  went  to  Can  Grande,  of  the  family 
della  Scala  (Scaligeri)  of  Verona,  who  was  the  leader  of  the 
Ghibelline  party  in  Lombardy,  and  appointed  Yicar  of  Henry 
VII.  in  1311.  He  was  much  younger  than  the  poet  and  survived 
him  eight  years  (b.  1291,  d.  1329).  Many  exiled  Ghibellines  and 
other  unfortunate  persons  of  distinction  found  refuge  at  his 
hospitable  court,  which  displayed  a  barbaric  magnificence  similar 
to  the  court  of  Frederick  II.  in  Sicily.  He  kept,  we  are  told, 
actors,  buffoons,  musicians  and  parasites,  who  were  more  caressed 
by  the  courtiers  than  poets  and  scholars.  "  Various  apart- 
ments in  the  palace  were  assigned  to  them,  designated  by  various 
symbols;  a  Triumph  for  the  warriors.  Groves  of  the  Muses  for 
the  poets ;  Mercury  for  the  artists ;  Paradise  for  the  preachers ; 

and  for  all  inconstant  Fortune All  had   their  private 

attendants,  and  a  table  equally  well  served.  At  times  Can 
Grande  invited  some  of  them  to  his  own  table,  particularly 
Dante  and  Guido  di  Castel  di  Reggio,  exiled  from  his  country 
with  the  friends  of  liberty."  ^ 

Dante  fixed  his  political  hopes,  after  the  death  of  Henry  VII. 
(1313),  upon  Can  Grande,  and  gave  him  an  undeserved  celebrity. 

^  An  extract  from  Ep.  x.,  500-503  (ed.  of  Fraticelli). 

2  Quoted  by  Longfellow,  in.,  308.  A  lively  picture  of  Can  Grande's  court 
and  Dante's  life  there  is  given  by  Ferrari  in  his  comedy,  Uante  a  Verona. 


DANTE   ALIGHIERI.  .   309 

He  made  him  the  subject  of  predictions  in  the  Commedia,  none 
of  wliich  were  fulfilled. 

He  mentions  him  first  in  the  introductory  canto  of  the  Inferno 
under  the  allegorical  name  of  Veltro^  which  means  greyhound, 
and  was  suggested  ])y  the  name  cane,  hound,  and  the  boundary 
of  liis  territory,  "  tra  Feltro  e  FeliroJ^  i.  e.,  between  Feltro  in 
Friuli  and  Montefeltro  in  Komagna.  He  describes  him  as  the 
coming  saviour  of  Italy,  who  sets  his  heart  not  on  land  and 
money,  but  on  wisdom,  love  and  virtue,  and  who  will  slay  the 
wolf  of  avarice,  the  root  of  many  evils  (1  Tim.  6  :  8,  9).^ 

"Many  the  animals  with  whom  she  [the  she-wolf,  lupn]  weds, 
And  more  tliey  shall  be  still,  until  the  greyhound  [<7  veltro'] 
Comes,  who  shall  make  her  perish  in  her  pain. 

He  shall  not  feed  on  either  earth  or  pelf, 
But  upon  wisdom,  and  on  love  and  yirtue  ; 
'Twixt  Feltro  and  Feltro  shall  his  nation  be  ; 

Of  that  low  Italy  shall  he  be  the  saviour. 
On  whose  account  the  maid  Camilla  died, 
Emyalus,  Turnus,  Nisus,  of  their  wounds ; 

Through  every  city  he  shall  hunt  her  down, 
Until  he  shall  have  driven  her  back  to  Hell, 
There  from  whence  envy  first  did  let  her  loose. ' ' 

In  the  Paradiso  he  praises  his  benefactor  in  similar  terms.^ 

' '  But  ere  the  Gascon  cheat  the  noble  Henry, 
Some  sparkles  of  his  virtue  shall  appear 
In  caring  not  for  silver  nor  for  toil. 

So  recognized  shall  his  magnificence 
Become  hereafter,  that  his  enemies 
Will  not  have  power  to  keep  mute  tongues  about  it. 

On  him  rely,  and  on  his  benefits ; 
By  him  shall  many  people  be  transformed, 
Changing  condition  rich  and  mendicant. ' '  ^ 

^  Inferno^  I.,  100  sqq. 

^Parad.,  XVII.,  82-90,  sqq. 

2  The  Gascon  is  Clement  Y.,  who  was  elected  Pope  in  1305.  The  "  noble 
Henry"  is  the  Emperor  Henry  VII.,  who  came  to  Italy  in  1310,  when  Can 
Grande  was  about  19  years  of  age.  Clement  publicly  professed  to  be  Henry's 
friend,  but  secretly  he  was  his  enemy,  and  is  said  to  have  instigated  or  con- 
nived at  his  death  by  poison. 


310  DANTE   ALIGHIERI. 

He  dedicated  to  him  the  first  cantos  of  the  Paradlso,  and 
wrote  hira  a  letter  which  furnishes  the  key  to  the  allegorical 
understanding  of  the  Commedia. 

In  all  probability  Can  Grande  is  also  meant  in  that  passage  of 
the  Purgatorio — the  obscurest  in  the  whole  poem — where  Beatrice 
predicts  the  coming  of  a  mighty  captain  and  messenger  of  God 
who  would  restore  the  Roman  empire  and  slay  the  Roman  harlot, 
{i.  e.y  the  corrupt,  rapacious  papacy),  together  with  her  giant 
paramour  {i.  e.,  the  King  of  France  who  transferred  the  papacy 
to  Avignon).^ 

"Without  an  heir  shall  not  forever  be 

The  Eagle  that  left  his  plumes  upon  the  car, 
"Whence  it  became  a  monster,  then  a  prey  ; 

For  verily  I  see,  and  hence  narrate  it, 
Tlie  stars  already  near  to  bring  the  time, 
From  every  hindrance  safe,  and  every  bar, 

Witliin  which  a  Five-hundred^  Ten^  and  Fke, 

One  sent  from  God,  shall  slay  the  thievish  woman, 
And  that  same  giant  who  is  sinning  with  lier. ' '  ^ 

The  mystic  number  515,  in  Roman  numerals  DXY,  or 
with  a  slight  transposition  DVX,  means  not  a  period  (as 
between  Charlemagne  and  Louis  the  Bavarian,  799-1314),  but 
a  person,  a  Dux,  a  captain,  a  prince.  Some  eminent  com- 
mentators refer  it  to  Emperor  Henry  VII. ;  ^  but  he  was  more 
than  a  Dux,  and  died  (1313)  before  the  Purgatorio  was  com- 
pleted (about  1318).  We  must,  therefore,  either  think  of  some 
unknown  future   Roman    emperor,^  or  of  Can   Grande  whom 

^  Piirg.,  XXXIII.,  37-45. 

^  "  Nel  quale  un  cinquecento  diece  e  cinque, 
3Icsso  da  Dio,  anciderd  lafuia, 
Con  quel  gigante  die  con  lei  dclinque.'^ 

"  Longfellow,  Plumptre,  and  others  who  understand  the  Vcltro  of  Can  Grande. 

'^  So  Witte  (p.  649)  :  "  Der  Divider  icird  i)i  der  Zeit  die  vergnngen  u-ar,  scif  cr 
die  Prophezeiung  zu  Anfang  der  Holle  geschrieben  liatte,  erkannt  Jiaben,  dass  Can 
Grande  der  Aufgabe,  die  cr  iJnn  daiuals  gesfellt  Jiaffe,  nicht  geniigfe,  und  so  llbcr- 
ireid  er  nun  deren  ErfiUhuig  enij'ernleren  unhedimmiercn  Hoffnungcn.  Ob 
Ihtidc  ddbei  an  cine  schon  Ubende,  bestimmie  PcrHonlichkeit  gedavht  Iiabe,  und  an 
u-<Ich('^  id  zu-eifeUiaft.  BTiJglieh  ivllre  ex,  da.ss  er  uni  diese  Zeit  noeli  von  deni 
mdir  al.s  zwanzigja/irigen  Sohne  Heinriehs  VII.,  dein  Konig  Joluinn  von  BUhmen, 
aolche  Eru-artungen  geliegthiittc.'''' 


DANTE  ALIGTIIERI.  311 

Dante  praised  both  before  in  the  Iriferno,  and  afterward  in  the 
Paradiso}  The  initials  of  his  name  and  title  have  been  found 
in  the  number  515.^ 

Dante  was  sadly  disappointed  in  his  expectations.  Henry 
VII.  died  before  he  could  accomplisli  any  reform.  Can  Grande, 
though  a  liberal  patron  of  the  poet,  was  a  tyrant,  and  in  no 
way  qualified  for  such  a  high  task.  Dante  overestimated  his 
character.  Men  of  genius  are  often  lacking  in  knowledge  of 
human  nature,  or  understand  it  better  in  general  than  in  particu- 
lar.    It  is  ahvays  dangerous  to  prophesy. 

But  if  we  apply  Dante's  hermeneutical  canon  of  a  double 
sense  to  this  case,  w-e  may  find  in  the  Velfro  and  the  Dux  some 
future  restorer  and  reformer  for  whom  Can  Grande  was  merely 
to  pave  the  way. 

Note. — The  name  Velfro  and  the  mystic  number  DXY  heave  given  as 
much  trouble  to  Dante  scholars,  as  the  apocalj^ptic  number  606  (Rev. 
13  :  18)  to  biblical  commentators.  Scartazzini,  in  a  special  excursus  ( Com. 
on  Purged.,  II.,  802,  sqq.),  enumerates  a  list  of  no  less  than  65  separate 
monographs  and  essays  on  the  subject.  The  majority  understand  both 
terms,  or  at  least  Veltro,  of  Can  Grande.     Other  interpretations  are  : — 

1.  Uguccione  deiia  Faggiola,  a  brave  Ghibelline  captain,  who,  with  the 
remaining  soldiers  of  Henry  YII.  and  other  Ghibellines  subdued  Lucca, 
and  defeated  the  Guelfs,  in  1315,  but  afterwards  met  reverses  and  retired  to 
Can  della  Scala.  (Troya,  Del  VeUro  (dJegorico  dl  Dante.,  Firenze,  1826  ; 
and  Del  Veltro  aUegorico  del  GldheJUni,  Xapoli,  1856). 

2.  Emperor  Henry  YII.  Yery  plausible,  but  impossible,  for  chronologi- 
cal reasons. 

^  So  Blanc,  Philalethes,  Wegele,  Scartazzini,  and  many  others. 
2  According  to  the  following   computation  of   the    numerical   value  of 
letters  : — 

k  =  10  s  =  90 

g  =    7  d  =:    4 

d=    4  e=    5 

e  =    5  V  =    300 

s=    90 

515 
Kan  [for  Can]  Grande  DE  Scala  Signore  DE  Verona.  Scart;izzini  (in  his 
Com.  II.,  779)  remarks  :  ^^  Tutto  s^  accorda  adunquc  a  rendere  assai  verisimile 
V  opinione  che  il  DXV  sia  Cangrande  ddJa  Scalla,  opinione  die,  come  vedremo 
nelJa  digressione,  fii  adoitata  dal  maggior  numcro  dci  commentatori  antichi  e 
modern  i. ' '  The  computation,  however,  is  very  artificial,  more  so  than  the  refer- 
ence of  the  apocalyptic  number  6GG  to  Nero  [n]  Ctcsar  OQn  p*)J  =  50, 
200,  6,  50,  100,  GO,  200,  in  all  6GG).  '       ' 


312  DANTE  ALIGHIERI. 

3.  Emperor  Louis  the  Bavarian,  who  was  chosen  Henry's  successor  in 
October,  1314,  crowned  in  Milan,  and  in  Rome  by  two  bishops.  He  quar- 
reled with  Pope  John  XXII. ,  declared  him  a  heretic,  was  excommunicated, 
deposed  the  pope  and  elected  an  anti-pope,  but  could  not  maintain  the  oppo- 
sition, and  died  in  1347  while  preparing  for  another  expedition  to  Italy. 

4.  An  undefined  future  emperor  and  reformer. 

5.  Jesus  Christ  coming  to  judgment.  DXV  is  interpreted  Dominus 
Xristus  Victor^  or  Vindex. 

6.  The  archangel  Michael. 

7.  A  Roman  PontiiF:  DXV  =  Domini  Xristi  Vicarius.  But  Dante 
had  a  poor  opinion  of  popes  and  saw  none  of  them  in  heaven.  Still  less 
can  he  mean  a  particular  pope  of  his  own  time,  as  Benedict  XI,  who  was 
elected  1303  and  died  1304,  or  Clement  V.  (1305-1314),  or  John  XXII. 
(1316-1334),  who  resided  in  Avignon-. 

The  most  absurd  interpretations  are  :  Dante  himself ;  Luther  ( Veltro  = 
Lutero)\  Garibaldi;  Victor  Immanuel  II.;  William  I.  of  Pmssia,  first 
Protestant  Emperor  of  Germany  !  ! ! 

DANTE  IN  RAVENNA. 

Dante  spent  two  or  three  years  at  the  court  of  Can  Grande. 
Even  there  he  was  not  happy.  He  lost  more  and  more  the  hope 
of  the  regeneration  of  Italy  during  his  lifetime,  and  put  it  oflp  to 
the  indefinite  future.-^  He  felt  the  salt  savor  of  the  bread  of 
poverty,  and  the  want  of  appreciation  among  his  surroundings. 
His  patron  once  asked  him  why  a  buffoon  won  greater  favor  with 
the  courtiers  by  his  wit  than  he  by  his  genius.  Dante  replied : 
*'  Because  like  loves  like.^  The  friendship  was  seriously  dis- 
turbed, though  not  entirely  broken. 

Dante  repaired  to  the  ruined  city  of  Ravenna  on  the  Adriatic, 
famous  for  its  pine  woods,  basilicas  and  baptisteries  from  the 
post-Nicene  age.  It  is  the  last  outpost  of  Byzantine  rule  in  the 
West,  and  to  the  historian  and  antiquarian  one  of  the  most 
remarkable  spots  in  Italy. 

In  this  city  the  weary  pilgrim  spent  the  rest  of  his  life  under 
the  protection  of  Guido  Novello  da  Polenta,  the  lord  of  Ravenna, 
who,  being  himself  well  educated,  knew  how  to  appreciate 
scholars.  Although  he  was  a  Guelf,  he  treated  the  Ghibelline 
poet  with  all  due  honor. 

^  Purg.  XXXIII.,  40  ;  Parad.  XXVII.,  42. 

2  "  PercJbfi  ciascuno  ama  il  suo  simile.^'  ^'Similis  shnili  gaudct.^^  "  Gleich  und 
gleich  gesellt  sick  gcni.'^ 


DANTE  ALIGHIERI.  313 

Here  he  finished  the  Paradiso.  Here,  it  seems,  his  sons  Pietro 
and  Jacopo,  and  his  daughter  Beatrice  joined  him.  Long  after 
bis  death  we  find  her,  whose  very  name  reminded  him  of  the 
love  of  his  youth  and  the  sohice  of  his  manhood,  as  a  nun  in  a 
Franciscan  convent  at  Ravenna.  The  city  of  Florence  sent  her, 
through  Boccaccio,  some  aid,  which  was  the  first  sign  of  regret 
for  the  injustice  done  to  her  father. 

DEATH  AND  BURIAL. 

Once  more  Dante's  rest  was  disturbed  by  a  mission  to  Venice 
to  settle  a  quarrel  between  that  city  and  the  lord  of  Ravenna. 
This  mission,  like  all  his  political  life,  was  a  failure.  The  senate 
of  Venice  refused  him  permission  to  return  in  one  of  her  ships, 
and  passing  in  midsummer  through  that  unhealthy  region  which 
lies  between  the  two  cities,  he  caught  a  fever  which  proved  fatal. 

He  died  under  the  roof  of  Guido  da  Polenta,  after  having 
devoutly  partaken  of  the  last  sacrament,  at  the  age  of  fifty-six 
years  and  four  months,  on  September  14th,  1321,  the  day  of  the 
elevation  of  the  cross.  '*  He  was  no  doubt''  says  Boccaccio, 
"  received  into  the  arms  of  his  most  noble  Beatrice,  and  now 
enjoys  with  her,  after  the  miseries  of  this  earthly  life,  that  bliss 
which  has  no  end." 

Dante  lost  his  early  love,  but  found  it  again  in  Paradise.  His 
labors  for  Florence  were  rewarded  with  exile  from  his  native 
city.  But  he  always  held  fast  to  his  principles  and  ideals. 
What  his  age  refused  him,  posterity  has  abundantly  granted, 
and  will  continue  to  grant,  to  the  sublimest  of  poets.  "  The 
homeless  exile  found  a  home  in  thousands  of  grateful  hearts." 
E  venne  dalV  esilio  a  questa  pace. 

Dante  was  honorably  buried  in  the  Franciscan  chapel  of  St. 
Mary  with  a  wreath  of  laurel  on  his  head  and  a  lyre  at  his  feet, 
perhaps,  also,  according  to  an  uncertain  tradition,  in  the  garb 
of  a  Franciscan  friar.  A  plain  monument  repeatedly  restored  ^ 
is  erected  over  his  remains,  with    a   Latin  inscription   of  six 

^  Lo-svell  describes  it  as  "a  little  shrine  covered  with  a  dome,  not  unlike 
the  tomb  of  a  Mohammedan  saint."  and  as  "the  chief  magnet  which  draws 
foreigners  and  their  gold  to  Ravenna."  I  visited  the  shrine  and  the  old 
Basilicas  and  the  Baptistery  of  St.  John  in  June,  1888. 


314  DANTE  ALIGHIERI. 

hexameters,  said   to   have  been  written  by  himself,  and  ending 
with  the  words  : — 

"  Hie  claudor  Dantesf,  patriis  exf orris  ah  oris^ 
Quern  genuit  parvi  Florentia  mater  amori's.^^ 
' '  Here  am  I,  Dante,  shut,  exiled  from  the  ancestral  shore, 
Whom  Florence,  the  of  all  least  loving  mother,  bore. ' '  ^ 

POSTHUMOUS  FAME. 
Florence  asked  in  vain  for  the  ashes  of  her  greatest  son,  but 
she  created  a  chair  for  the  explanation  of  his  Dlvina  Commedia, 
in  1373,^  and  erected  a  costly  monument  to  his  memory  in  the 
church  of  Santa  Croce,  the  pantheon  of  Italian  geniuses,  between 
those  of  Michael  Angelo  and  the  poet  Alfieri,  with  the  inscrip- 
tion : — 

"  Onorate  Valtissimo  poeta  /  " 

' '  Honor  the  loftiest  of  poets. ' '  ^ 

The  example  of  Florence  was  followed  by  other  cities,  and 
before  the  end  of  the  fourteenth  century  Dante  chairs  were 
erected  in  Bologna,  Pisa,  Piacenza,  and  Milan.  Quite  recently 
such  a  chair  was  established  also  in  the  University  of  Rome, 
and  offered  to  the  distinguished  liberal  poet  Carducci,  of 
Bologna,  who,  however,  declined  the  call  (1888).  In  Germany, 
England  and  America  special  Dante  societies  have  been  organ- 
ized for  the  same  purpose. 

During  the  seventeenth  and  eighteenth  centuries  Dante  was 

^  A  close  translation  of  J.  Russell  Lowell  in  his  essay  on  Dante.    Plumptre 
(l.,  p.  cxxvii.),  translates  the  two  hexameters  more  freely  thus  : — 
"  Here  am  I  laid,  I,  Dante,  far  from  home, 
Exiled  from  that  fair  city,  doomed  to  roam, 
To  whom  I  owed  my  hirth,  who  yet  did  prove 
To  me,  her  child,  without  a  mother's  love." 
There  is  reason  to  doubt  that  Dante  thus  took  revenge  in  his  last  word  on 
his  native  city.    The  first  inscription,  according  to  Villani  and  Boccaccio,  was 
that  of  his  scholarly  friend,  Giovanni  di  Virgilio,  who  praises  his  merits  and 
likewise  reproaches  Florence  for  her  ingratitude.      It  is  given  by  Plumptre, 
with  a  translation  i.,  CXXVII.,  sq. 

^  Tlie  Dante  chair  w^as  first  occupied  by  Boccaccio,  who  explained  the  first 
17  cantos  of  the  Inferno,  when   he  was  interrupted  by  a  fatal  sickness  (d. 
Dec.  21st,  1375),  and  then  by  Villani,  and  Filelfo. 
^  Words  ^vhich  Dante  applies  to  Virgil.  Inf.  TV.,  80. 


DANTE   ALIGHIERI.  315 

neglected  even  in  Italy,  and  between  1629  and  1726  no  edition 
of  his  works  appeared. 

But  in  the  present  century,  especially  daring  the  last  fifty 
years,  Italian,  German,  French,  English  and  American  scholars 
have  vied  with  each  other  in  editing  and  expounding  the  works 
and  reproducing  the  ideas  of  the  great  ])oet  for  the  benefit  of  the 
present  generation.  Between  1800  and  1865,  the  sixth  centenary 
of  his  birth,  no  less  than  238  editions  of  the  Dlvina  Commedia 
have  been  published ;  while  the  total  sura  of  editions  to  date 
reaches  about  350  or  more.^ 

THE  SIXTH  CENTENARY  OF  DANTE'S  BIRTH. 
The  veneration  for  Dante  culminated  in  the  celebration  of  the 
sixth  centenary  of  his  birth  in  Florence,  Ravenna,  and  other 
Italian  cities.  It  was  at  the  same  time  a  patriotic  festival  of 
united  and  free  Italy,  toward  which  his  name  and  genius  had 
richly  contributed.  For  more  than  a  year  the  Giornale  del  Cente- 
nario,  devoted  to  Dantesque  subjects,  had  prepared  the  public 
mind.  A  hundred  thousand  peo})le,  including  representatives  of 
poetry,  literature,  science  and  politics,  gathered  in  Florence — 
then  the  national  capital — to  do  honor  to  his  memory.  Three 
days  were  given  up  to  public  rejoicings,  eloquent  speaking,  pro- 
cessions, tournaments,  illuminations,  banquets,  musical  and  the- 
atrical entertainments.  The  great  feature  was  the  unveiling  of 
Piazzi's  statue  of  Dante  in  the  Piazza  of  Santa  Croce,  by  Victor 
Emanuel  II.,  the  first  king  of  united  Italy.      The  multitude 

shouted : 

"Honor  to  the  loftiest  of  poets." 

Five  years  afterward  Kome  was  made  the  capital  of  Italy, 
and  thus  Dante^s  political  aspirations,  as  far  as  Italy  is  concerned, 
were  fulfilled. 

^  Hettinger,  Die  GoUUcJie  Komodic,  etc.  (1880),  -p.  55.  Scartazzini  {Hand- 
book to  Dcmte,  p.  159)  counts  15  editions  from  1472-1500,  30  editions  from 
1501-1600,  3  editions  from  1001-1700,  257  editions  from  1801-1882  ;  in  all 
he  counts  336  editions  including  liis  own  (1882),  Several  new  editions  from 
stereotj'pe  jilates  have  appeared  since.  Botta  (p.  142)  estimates  the  total 
number  of  editions  at  about  four  hundred  (in  1886).  Catalogues  of  the 
editions  are  given  by  Lord  Vernon  in  his  edition  de  luxe,  in  Ferrazi's  Manuale 
JDaniesco,  and  other  bibliographical  works  on  Dante. 


816  DANTE  ALIGHIERL 


CHARACTER  AND  HABITS  OF  DANTE. 

The  personal  appearance  and  habits  of  Dante  are  described 
by  Boccaccio,  his  first  biographer,  who  knew  his  nephew,  and 
delivered  lectures  on  the  Divina  Commedia  in  1373. 

According  to  him,  Dante  was  of  middle  height,  slightly  bent 
in  later  years,  dignified  and  courteous,  always  decently  dressed ; 
his  face  long,  his  nose  aquiline,  his  eyes  large,  his  cheeks  full, 
his  lower  lip  somewhat  protruding  beyond  the  upper;  his  com- 
plexion dark,  his  hair  and  beard  black,  thick  and  crisp  ;  his 
countenance  always  sad  and  thoughtful ;  his  manner  calm  and 
polished.  He  was  most  temperate  in  eating  and  drinking,  fond 
of  music  and  singing,  most  zealous  in  study,  of  marvellous 
capacity  of  memory ;  much  inclined  to  solitude,  and  familiar 
with  few ;  grave  and  taciturn,  but  fervent  and  eloquent  when 
occasion  required.  The  author  of  the  Decameroiie  charges  him 
with  incontinence,  which,  in  his  eyes  and  that  of  his  age  and 
nation,  was  an  excusable  weakness ;  but,  whatever  view  we  may 
take  of  his  unfaithfulness  to  Beatrice,  for  which  he  was  severely 
rebuked  in  Purgatory,  he  deeply  repented  of  it.^ 

Dante  was  no  saint,  any  more  than  Milton  or  Goethe,  but  pro- 
foundly religious  and  serious  to  austerity.  He  charges  himself 
with  pride  and  envy.  He  had  a  violent  temper,  and  indulged 
in  the  language  of  scorn  and  contempt.  He  was  deficient  in 
the  crowning  graces  of  humility  and  charity.  But  his  principles 
were  pure,  and  his  ideas  rose  to  the  highest  peak  of  grandeur 
and  sublimity.  He  was  capable  of  the  sweetest  love  and  the 
bitterest  hatred.  His  relation  to  Beatrice  reveals  an  unfathomable 
depth  of  soul.  He  was  a  man  of  intense  belief,  and  thought  him- 
self invested  with  a  divine  mission,  like  the  Hebrew  Prophets. 
He  loved  truth  and  righteousness,  and  hated  falsehood  and 
iniquity.  He  loved  his  native  Florence  and  Italy,  in  spite  of 
ill  treatment.  He  was  the  most  ardent  patriot — the  Italian  of 
Italians — and  yet  a  cosmopolitan.  He  was  true  to  his  convic- 
tions, and  uttered  them  without  fear  or  favor  of  men,  and  with- 
out regard  to  his  own  comfort  and  happiness. 

1  See  above,  pp.  295  sqq. 


DANTE  ALIGHIERL  317 

In  his  immortal  work  he  wrote  his  own  biography,  his  passage 
through  the  knowledge  of  sin  and  the  struggle  of  repentance  to 
the  holiness  and  bliss  of  heaven. 


PORTRAITS  OF  DANTE,  i 

There  are  two  contemporaneous  and  equally  characteristic 
pictures  of  Dante:  the  portrait  painted  by  Giotto  on  wood  and 
copied  al  fresco  on  the  altar-wall  of  the  chapel  of  the  Palace  of 
the  Podesta  in  Florence  (now  the  Bargello,  a  police-station  and 
prison),  and  a  plaster  cast  of  his  face  taken  after  his  death  and 
preserved  in  the  Museum  in  Florence.  They  substantially  agree 
with  the  description  of  Boccaccio  (except  the  absence  of  the 
beard),  but  differ  as  youth  differs  from  mature  age.  Giotto 
represents  the  poet  in  the  beauty  and  vigor  of  youth  or  early 
manhood  with  a  pomegranate  in  his  hand  and  a  cap  gracefully 
covering  his  head.  Professor  Charles  E.  Norton,  of  Harvard 
College,  places  ^^  this  likeness  of  the  supreme  poet  by  the  supreme 
artist  of  mediaeval  Europe  at  the  head  of  all  the  portraits  of 
the  revival  of  art."  After  centuries  of  neglect  it  was  recovered 
in  1848  and  chromo-lithographed  by  the  Arundel  Society  from 
the  tracing  of  the  fresco,  which  Seymour  Kirkup,  an  English 
artist,  made  previously  to  its  restoration  or  rifacimento^  The 
mask  represents  the  poet  in  the  repose  of  death  at  the  age  of 
fifty-six  years,  grave,  stern,  melancholy,  with  the  marks  of  the 
conflict  of  an  iron  will  with  misfortune.  It  furnished  the  out- 
lines to  RaphaeFs  pictures,  which  have  made  Dante's  mortal 
frame  so  familiar  to  the  world. ^     "  The  face  of  the  youth,"  says 

^  Much  has  been  written  on  the  portraits  of  Dante  by  Italians,  in  the  Gior- 
nale  del  Centcnariodi  Dante  (Florence  1864-65);  by  Witte,  Welcker,  Savi  and 
Paur,  in  the  "  Transactions  of  the  German  Dante  Society  "  (1869,  1871,  etc.); 
by  Charles  E.  Norton  {On  the  Original  Portraits  of  Dante,  Cambridge,  Mass., 
1865,  reprinted  in  Longfellow's  Dante  I.,  363  sqq.),  S.  F.  Clarke  (1884),  and 
Dean  Plumptre  (vol.  ii.,  529-532).    See  note  on  p.  325. 

2  The  original  of  the  tracing  is  in  possession  of  Lord  Vernon,  the  liberal 
patron  of  Dante  scholarship.  A  facsimile  in  the  first  volume  of  Plumptre's 
Dante  (1887),  in  Fraticelli's  and  other  editions  of  the  Commcdia. 

3  Norton  gives  three  photographs  of  the  plaster  cast ;  and  Plumptre  puts  a 
copy  in  front  of  his  second  volume. 


318  DANTE  ALIGHIERI. 

Norton,  "is  grave,  as  with  the  shadow  of  distant  sorrow;  the 
face  of  the  man  is  solemn,  as  of  one  who  had  gone 
"Per  tuttl  i  cerchj  del  dolente  regno. ' '  ^ 

"  All  the  portraits  of  Dante,"  says  Lord  Macaulay,  in  his  essay 
on  Milton,  "  are  singularly  characteristic.  No  person  can  look 
on  the  features,  noble  even  to  ruggedness,  the  dark  furrows  of 
the  cheek,  the  haggard  and  woful  stare  of  the  eye,  the  sullen 
and  contemptuous  curl  of  the  lip,  and  doubt  that  they  belonged 
to  a  man  too  proud  and  too  sensitive  to  be  happy." 

Thomas  Carlyle,  a  poet  in  prose  and  a  painter  in  words,  calls 
Dante's  portrait  "  the  mournfullest  face  that  ever  was  painted 
from  reality ;  an  altogether  tragic,  heart-affecting  face.  There  is 
in  it,  as  foundation  of  it,  the  softness,  tenderness,  gentle  affection 
as  of  a  child  ;  but  all  this  is  as  if  congealed  into  sharp  contra- 
diction, into  abnegation,  isolation,  proud,  hopeless  pain.  A  soft, 
ethereal  soul  looking  out  so  stern,  implacable,  grim,  trenchant, 
as  from  imprisonment  of  thick-ribbed  ice  !  Withal  it  is  a  silent 
pain  too,  a  silent,  sorrowful  one;  the  lip  is  curled  in  a  kind  of 
god-like  disdain  of  the  thing  that  is  eating  out  his  heart, — as  if 
it  were  withal  a  mean,  insignificant  thing,  as  if  he  whom  it  had 
power  to  torture  and  strangle  were  greater  than  it.  The  face  of 
one  wholly  in  protest,  and  life-long,  unsurrendering  battle 
against  the  world.  Affection  all  converted  into  indignation — 
an  implacable  indignation  ;  slow,  equable,  silent,  like  that  of  a 
god  !  The  eye  too,  it  looks  out  as  in  a  kind  of  surprise,  a  kind 
of  inquiry,  why  the  world  was  of  such  a  sort?  This  is  Dante: 
so  he  looks,  this  Woice  of  ten  silent  centuries,'  and  sings  us  ^  his 
mystic,  unfathomable  song.' " 

What  Giotto  painted  from  life,  Raphael,  with  equal  genius, 
reproduced  from  the  mask.  In  his  "  Disputa  "  on  the  mystical 
presence,  he  places  Dante  between  Thomas  Aquinas  and  Duns 
Scotus,  the  heads  of  the  two  rival  schools  of  scholastic  theology; 
in  his  "  Parnassus,"  he  places  Dante  between  Virgil  and  Homer, 
the  two  master  poets  of  classical  antiquity. 

^  The  famous  descriptions  of  Dante's  picture  by  Macaulay  (1825),  and 
Carlyle  (1840),  apply  to  the  copies  made  from  the  mask  rather  than  the 
picture  of  Giotto,  which  was  recovered  afterward,  and  they  must  be  judged 
accordingly. 


DAXTE   ALIGHIERI.  319 

This  was  Dante :  the  poet,  philosopher,  theologian,  prophet. 
He  made  love  and  poetry,  learning  and  art  subservient  to  faith, 
which  lifts  man  from  the  abyss  of  hell  to  the  beatific  vision  of 
saints  in  heaven. 

THE  WORKS  OF  DANTE. 

The  writings  of  Dante  (with  the  exception  of  that  on  Vulgar 
Eloquence),  are  autobiographic  and  turn  around  his  personal 
experience. 

The  Vita  Nuova,  the  Convito,  and  the  Be  Monarchia  form  a 
trilogy;  the  first  represents  youth,  poetry  and  love;  the  second 
manhood,  philosophy  and  learning;  the  third  statesmanship  and 
an  ideal  commonwealth. 

THE  NEW  LIFE. 
The  Vita  Nuova  ^  is  the  charming  story  of  his  love  for  Beatrice, 
and  the  transfiguration  of  an  earthly  into  a  heavenly  beauty  and 
of  human  into  divine  wisdom.  It  is  the  autobiography  of  his 
youth,  the  rising  and  the  setting  of  the  morning  star  of  his 
life.  The  narrative  is  interspersed  with  sonetti,  ballate  and 
cauzoni.  It  was  written  in  Florence,  shortly  after  the  death  of 
Beatrice,  in  his  26th  or  27th  year  (1290  or  1291),  while  his  tears 
for  her  were  still  flowing.^  It  is  dedicated  to  his  friend  Guide 
Cavalcanti,  who  died  in  1300.^ 

THE  BANQUET. 
The  Convito  {Convivio),^ or  Banquet  (Feast),  so  called  probably 

^  Some  explain  the  title  literally  :  The  Earhj  or  Youthful  Life  ;  others  mys- 
tically :  The  Xew  Life,  or  Palingenesia.  Kegeneratiou,  caused  by  Beatrice. 
^  As  Boccaccio  says  :  "  duranti  aneora  le  lagrime  della  sua  morta  Beatrice.''^ 
2  Best  Italian  editions  by  Alessandro  d'Ancona  (2d  ed.,  Pisa),  1884,  with 
commentary  and  a  discourse  on  Beatrice,  pp.  Ixxxviii.,  and  257 j ;  by  Pietro 
Fraticelli  (in  the  second  vol.  of  Opere  Jlinori  di  Dante,  Firenze,  1835,  etc.)  ; 
by  Giambattista  Giuliani  {J'ita  Xuova  e  il  Canzoniere  di  J).  A.,  Firenze,  1SC8, 
•with  a  list  of  editions,  pp.  155-1 G8)  ;  and  by  Karl  Witte  (Leipzig,  1876, 
with  an  account  of  all  earlier  editions).  Best  English  translations  by  Charles 
Eliot  Norton  (Prof,  of  Fine  Arts  in  Harvard  College,  Cambridge)  :  The  New 
Life  of  Dante  At.,  Boston,  1876  (pp.  149),  and  by  Dante  Gabriel  Eossetti,  in 
his  Dante  and  His  Circle  (pp.  29-110),  Boston  ed.,  1876.  Comp.  also  Kod. 
Eenier,  La  Vita  Nuova  e  la  Fiammetta,  Turin  and  Rome,  1879  ;  and  Gietmann, 
Beatrice,  Freiburg,  i.  B.,  1889.  "*  Witte  prefers  Convivio. 


320  DANTE   ALIGHIERI. 

in  reminiscence  of  Plato's  Symposion,  is  an  encyclopaedic  compend 
of  the  theological,  philosophical  and  scientific  knowledge  of  his 
age  for  the  unlearned  in  their  own  language.  It  is  likewise  com- 
posed of  prose  and  poetry,  but  unfinished.  It  was  to  embrace 
fifteen  books  or  trattati  (including  the  introduction),  and  fourteen 
canzoni,  but  only  four  books  and  three  canzoni  were  completed. 
It  is  esteemed  as  the  first  masterpiece  of  Italian  prose,  and  con- 
tains passages  of  great  eloquence  and  pathos.  It  is,  however, 
very  hard  reading,  and  the  text  is  exceedingly  corrupt. 

The  Banquet  contains,  as  far  as  it  goes,  the  raw  material  of 
the  Comedy.  In  it  theology  and  philosophy  are  for  the  first 
time  addressed  to  the  laity  in  the  vernacular  language. 

The  Convito  was  begun  perhaps  as  early  as  1298,  but  enlarged 
during  his  exile,  to  which  it  alludes.-^ 

ON  THE  EMPIRE. 

The  book  De  Monarchia  is  a  political  treatise  in  which  Dante 
unfolds  in  the  Latin  language,  for  scholars,  his  view^s  on  govern- 
ment and  the  relation  of  the  papacy  and  the  empire.  It  contains 
the  programme  of  the  Ghibellines  or  the  imperial  party,  but  it  is 
rather  an  ideal  Ghibellinism  which  rose  above  the  narrowness  of 
party  spirit.  He  proves,  in  three  parts,  first,  that  there  must  be 
a  universal  monarchy  or  empire;  secondly,  that  this  monarchy 
belongs  of  right  and  by  tradition  to  the  Roman  people;  and 
thirdly,  that  the  monarchy  depends  immediately  upon  God,  and 
not  upon  the  pope. 

The  conflicting  interests  of  society  in  his  judgment  require  an 
impartial  arbiter,  and  only  a  universal  monarch  can  be  an  impartial 
arbiter,  since  kings  of  limited  territories  are  always  liable  to  be 
influenced  by  selfish  motives  and  aims.  A  universal  monarch 
alone  can  insure  universal  peace.  The  right  of  Rome  is  based 
upon  the  facts  that  Christ  was  born  under  the  reign  of  Augustus 
and  died  under  Tiberius.     The  universal  rule  of  God  is  divided 

^  The  Italian  text  with  notes  in  Fraticelli's  ed.  of  Daniels  Opere  3IinoH 
(Fireuze,  ed.  ii.,  1862,  pp.  399)  ;  Giuliani's  ed.  (1875)  ;  English  translation  by 
Elizabeth  Price  Sayer,  London,  1887,  with  an  introduction  by  Henry  Morley, 
and  another  by  Katharine  Hillard,  London,  1889,  with  an  introduction.  The 
chronology  of  the  Convito  is  much  disputed  ;  the  estimates  vary  from  1298  to 
1314.     Witte  assigns  it  to  the  period  from  1300  to  1308. 


DANTE   ALIGHIERI.  321 

between  the  emperor  and  the  pope ;  the  emperor  is  supreme  by- 
divine  right  in  temporal  things,  and  is  to  guide  the  human  race 
to  temporal  felicity  in  accordance  with  the  teaching  of  philosophy ; 
the  pope  also  by  divine  right  is  supreme  in  spiritual  or  ecclesi- 
astical things,  and  is  to  guide  men  to  eternal  life  irj  accordance 
with  the  truth  of  Revelation. 

This  theory  is  in  direct  opposition  to  the  ultramontane  doctrine 
of  the  two  swords  as  proclaimed  in  the  same  age  by  Boniface 
YIII.,  in  his  famous  bull  Unam  Scmctam  (Nov.  24, 1302),  which 
teaches  an  absolute  j^apacy  with  supreme  control  over  temporal 
sovereigns.  Dante  placed  this  pope  in  hell ;  no  wonder  that 
after  his  death  the  book  De  Monarchia  (as  Boccaccio  reports)  was 
condemned  and  burnt  as  heretical,  in  1329,  by  the  papal  legate, 
Cardinal  del  Pogetto,  with  the  authority  of  Pope  John  XXII., 
of  Avignon.  He  intended  also  to  burn  the  bones  of  the  poet, 
but  was  restrained  by  powerful  friends.  The  Council  of  Trent 
put  the  book  on  the  Index. 

The  political  theory  of  Dante  has  never  been  realized,  except 
in  part  and  on  a  limited  national  scale.  Some  have  compared  it 
with  the  constitution  of  the  Netherlands,  others  with  that  of  the 
United  States ;  but  neither  comparison  will  hold.  Dante  was 
thoroughly  aristocratic,  monarchical  and  imperial.  He  had  no 
proper  conception  of  liberty  and  popular  rights,  no  idea  of  "a 
government  of  the  people,  by  the  people,  and  for  the  people,''  but 
he  approached  modern  ideas  by  laying  down  the  important  prin- 
ciple, that  the  government  is  for  the  people,  and  not  the  people 
for  the  government.^  He  strove  for  the  political  unity  of  Italy 
through  the  legitimate  Roman  empire ;  that  empire  is  gone,  but 
a  new  German  empire  arose  in  1870,  and  stands  in  friendly 
alliance  with  united  Italy.  If  Dante  lived  in  the  present  age, 
he  would  no  doubt  sympathize  with  the  United  Kingdom  of 
Italy  and  its  independent  relation  to  the  papacy.  He  would 
accept  Cavour's  programme  of  a  Free  Church  in  a  Free  State, 
but  probably  look  forward  to  a  universal  empire. 

The  book  on  the  Monarchy,  according  to  Boccaccio,  was  occa- 
sioned by  the  expedition  of  Emperor  Henry  YII.  to  Rome,  in 
1310,  as  a  programme  for  the  restoration  of  the  empire.     But 
^  ' '  Kon  enim  gens  propter  regem,  sed  e  converso  i  ex  propter  gentem. ' ' 

21 


322  DANTE  ALIGHIERI. 

Witte,  a  very  high  authority,  puts  the  composition  before  1300, 
as  there  is  no  alhision  in  it  to  his  exile.^ 

THE  CANZOXIERE. 

The  lyric  poems  of  Dante  embrace  the  sonnets,  ballads  and 
canzoni  scattered  through  his  Vita  Nuova  and  Co7ivito,  and  other 
pieces,  some  of  doubtful  origin. 

The  theme  of  these  lyrics  is  love  to  Beatrice,  and  devotion  to 
natural  and  spiritual  beauty.  He  infused  into  the  chivalrous 
love-poetry  of  the  troubadours  a  mystic  afflatus,  and  directed  it 
to  philosophy  and  theology.  His  love  wandered  away  for  a 
while  to  the  "gentle  lady^'  of  this  world,  but  returned  to 
Beatrice  in  Paradise. 

In  the  editions  of  the  Canzoniere  are  also  included  an  Italian 
version  of  the  seven  Penitential  Psalms  in  terza  rima,  and  the 
Latin  eclogues  addressed  to  Giovanni  del  Virgilio,  a  teacher  of 
Latin  literature  in  Bologna  (1318-1325).  Giovanni  praised 
Dante  while  at  Ravenna,  in  a  Latin  ode,  for  his  Comedy,  but 
blamed  him  for  writing  it  in  a  vulgar  tongue,  and  invited  him 
to  come  to  Bologna,  and  to  surpass  his  Italian  Comedy  by  Latin 
poetry.  Dante  proved  in  his  replies  that  he  was  master  of  Latin 
as  well,  and  could  resuscitate  the  bucolic  poetry  of  the  age  of 
Yirgil.2 

^  Opere  3Iinori,  ed.  Fraticelli,  vol.  ii.  English  trauslation  by  F.  C. 
Church,  pub.,  with  his  father's  Essay  on  Daute,  1878,  Scartazzini  says 
{HandhooTc  to  Dante,  p.  250):  "  The  first  edition  of  De  Monarchia  was  issued 
at  Bale  in  1559,  by  John  Oporinus.  Between  that  date  and  1618  it  was 
reprinted  in  *  Germany  five  times.  It  was  first  printed  in  Italy  in  1740,  at 
Yenice,  with  the  date  Geneva.  At  the  present  day  some  twenty  editions  can 
be  counted,  the  latest  being  that  of  Giuliani,  with  many  textual  emendations 
and  a  prolix  commentary."  Hettinger  fully  discusses  Dante's  politics,  from 
the  Roman  Catholic  point  of  view,  in  his  Die  Gottl.  Komodie  dcs  D.  A,  (1880), 
pp.  510-554. 

2  Fraticelli  {II  Canzoniere  di  Dante  A.,  Firenze,  1856,  and  later  editions) 
includes  le  rime  sacre  e  le poesie  laiinc,  i.e.,  the  Penitential  I'salms,  the  versified 
creed,  and  the  eclogues.  He  vindicates  to  Dante  44  sonnets,  10  ballads,  20 
odes  or  canzoni,  3  sextains  ;  Giuliani,  in  his  edition,  gives  the  number  of 
genuine  sonnets  as  37,  ballads  5,  odes  20,  sextain  1.  All  the  rest  are  doubtful 
or  spurious.  Comp.  Giosuc;  Carducci,  Delle  Iiime  di  Dante,  in  "  Studi  Let- 
terari,"  1874,  pp.  139-237.  English  translation  of  the  canzoniere  and  the 
eclogues  by  Plumptre,  Dante,  ii.,  199-344. 


DANTE  ALIGHIERI.  323 


OX  POPULAR   ELOQUENCE. 

De  Vulgari  Eloquio,^  is  a  defense  of  the  literary  use  of  the  ver- 
nacular language,  but  written  in  Latin  to  influence  the  learned 
despisers  of  the  language  of  the  people.  It  was  to  embrace  ten 
books,  but  only  two  have  come  down  to  us.  It  treats  of  language 
in  general,  and  the  different  dialects  of  Italy,  and  is  important 
for  the  development  of  a  national  Italian  literature  which  Dante 
founded  as  the  first  and  unsurpassed  classic. 

The  treatise  was  written  in  the  latter  part  of  his  exile^  to 
which  he  touchingly  alludes  when  he  writes :  '^  1  have  most  pity 
for  those,  whosoever  they  are,  that  languish  in  exile,  and  revisit 
their  country  only  in  dreams.'^ 

ON   WATER  AND   EARTH. 

A  Latin  essay  on  the  two  elements  of  water  and  earth 
{Qucestio  de  Aqua  et  Terra)  contains  the  substance  of  a  disputa- 
tion which  Dante  held  January  20th,  1320,  before  the  assembled 
clergy  at  Verona,  in  the  chapel  of  St.  Helena.  It  concludes 
with  an  honest  confession  of  humble  agnosticism,  asking  men  to 
cease  troubling  their  brains  about  subtle  questions  which  trans- 
cend their  capacity,  and  reminding  them  of  Paul's  words:  "O 
the  depth  of  the  riches  of  both  the  wisdom  and  knowledge  of 
God:  how  unsearchable  are  his  judgments,  and  his  ways  past 
tracing  out  '^  (Rom.  xi.  33). 

In  this  treatise  Dante  maintains  that  the  sea-level  is  uniform, 
that  the  earth  is  spherical,  that  the  moon  is  the  chief  cause  of  the 
tides.  Some  zealous  admirers  claim  for  him  an  anticipation  of 
Newton's  theory  of  gravitation  and  other  important  discoveries 
of  truths  of  modern  science.^  But  this  is  about  as  preposterous 
as  to  assert  that  Shakespeare  discovered  the  circulation  of  the 
blood  before  Harvey,  or  that  St.  James  anticipated  the  Coperni- 
can  system  when  speaking  of  the  ^'  Father  of  lights,"  with  whom 
there  can  be  ^*  no  shadow  of  turning''  (i.  17).  Dante  was  origi- 
nal as  a  poet,  but  as  a  philosopher"  he  was  a  pupil  of  Aristotle, 
and  as  a  theologian  a  pupil  of  Thomas  Aquinas. 

^  Or  better,  De  vulgari  Eloqucniia.     See  Scartazzini,  p.  243. 

2  He  was,  however,  aware  of  universal  attraction.     Inf.  xxxiv.,  106-114. 


324  DANTE  ALIGHIERI. 

LETTERS. 

Fourteen  letters,  two  of  them  recently  discovered  by  Professor 
Witte.  Tliey  illustrate  the  prophetic  character  with  which 
Dante  believed  himself  to  be  endowed. 

The  longest  and  most  important  is  addressed  to  his  patron  and 
friend,  Can  Grande  della  Scala,  of  Verona,  and  furnishes  the  key 
for  the  understanding  of  the  Divina  Commedia.  The  letters  to 
Emperor  Henry  VII.,  and  to  the  princes  of  Italy  and  the  people 
of  Florence  cast  light  on  his  politics. 

THE   CREED. 

The  Credo  of  Dante,  so  called,  is  a  series  of  didactic  poems  or 
poetic  paraphrases  of  the  Apostles'  Creed,  the  seven  Sacraments, 
the  Ten  Commandments,  the  seven  Penitential  Psalms,  the  seven 
deadly  sins,  the  Lord's  Prayer,  and  the  Ave  Maria.  It  is  a  sort 
of  manual  of  faith  and  devotion  and  written  in  the  same  metre 
as  the  Commedia}  But  it  is  so  much  inferior  to  his  genuine 
poetry  that  it  betrays  either  great  haste,  or  premature  decline  of 
power,  or,  more  probably,  the  hand  of  an  admirer  who  wished 
to  clear  him  of  the  suspicion  of  heresy.^  This  was  a  very  unne- 
cessary task.  His  Comedy  is  sufficiently  orthodox  for  every  intel- 
ligent Catholic,  if  we  judge  it  from  the  mediaeval,  and  not  from 
the  modern  Vatican  or  ultramontane  standard.  His  genuine 
prayer  to  the  Virgin  Mary  in  the  thirty-third  Canto  of  the 
Paradiso  is  far  superior  to  the  questionable  Ave  Maria  of  the 
Credo,  both  in  ardor  of  devotion  and  poetic  beauty. 

^  Plumptre  (it.,  318-325)  gives  a  rhymed  translation  of  the  Credo,  but 
confesses  that  he  cannot  find  in  it  the  traces  of  the  master's  hand.  It  is  not 
mentioned  by  Boccaccio  and  the  earliest  commentators,  and  comes  to  us 
through  an  anonymous  MS.  in  the  Bibliotheca  Riccardiana  of  Florence,  but 
is  received  by  Fraticelli  and  included  in  his  edition  of  the  CanzonUrc,  and  by 
"Witte  and  Krafft  in  their  German  translations  of  Dante's  Minor  Poems. 

2  According  to  an  uncertain  tradition,  the  Franciscans  took  offense  at  the 
lamentations  of  St.  Francis  over  the  degeneracy  of  his  order  in  Paradiso,  xi., 
120-139,  and  brought  Dante  before  the  Inquisitor,  but  Dante  asked  for  a 
short  respite  to  prepare  his  defense,  and  produced  over-night  this  Credo; 
whereupon  he  was  acquitted. 


DANTE  ALIGHIERL  325 


THE  COMEDY. 
The  Div'ina    Commediaj  which  requires   a   separate  essay,  is 
Dante's  last  and  greatest  work,  to  which  all  others  are  prepara- 
tory and  contributory.     He  calls  it  a  "  sacred  poem  " — 
' '  To  which  both  heaven  and  earth  have  set  their  hand. ' '  ^ 

1  Far.,  XXV.,  1  :— 

"  II  poema  saero, 
Al  quale  ha  post o,  mano  e  cielo  e  terra.'''' 


Note  to  p.  317,  the  Portraits  of  Daxte. — Since  the  preceding  pages 
■were  stereotyped,  Prof.  Thomas  Davidson  directed  my  attention  to  Le  Opere 
di  Giorgio  Vasari  con  nuove  annotazioni  e  commenti  di  Gaetano  MiLANESI 
(Firenze,  1878),  which  contains  (p.  413  sqq.)  a  lengthy  discussion  on  Giotto's 
portrait  of  Dante.  Milanesi  shows  that  Giotto  was  not  the  author,  as  is  gen- 
erally supposed,  of  the  fresco  picture  of  Dante  in  the  capella  del  Palazzo  del 
Poesta  in  Florence,  but  of  a  portrait  on  wood  which  stood  on  the  altar,  and 
was  lost  about  the  beginning  of  the  fifteenth  century,  having,  however,  been 
previously  copied  on  the  wall  of  said  palazzo  and  also  on  that  of  the  Church 
of  Sauta  Croce. 


326  DANTE  ALIGHIERI. 


DANTE  CHRONICLE. 
D.,  1265.     May  or  June.    Dante  born  at  Florence. 

1268.  Conradin,  grandson  of  Frederick  II. ,  and  the  last  of  the  Hohen- 
stanfen,  defeated  at  Tagliacozzo  by  Charles  of  Anjou,  and 
beheaded  at  Naples.  (Cf  Inf.  xxvill.  17  sqq.  ;  Purg.  xx. 
67sgy.) 

1274.  May.  Dante's  first  meeting  with  Beatrice  (see  Vita  Nuova). 
Death  of  Thomas  Aquinas,  "the  angelic  doctor,"  and  Bona- 
ventura,  "the  seraphic  doctor."  {^Purg.  xx.  67-69  ;  Par. 
X.  96  :  XII,  110,  127,) 

1276.     Birth  of  Giotto,  the  painter.     {Purg.  xi.  95.) 

1280.  Death  of  Albertus  Magnus.     {Par.  x.  95.) 

1281.  Dante's  second  meeting  with  Beatrice.    Death  of  Pope  Nicholas 

III.     {Lif.  XIX.  71.) 

1282.  The  Sicilian  Vespers,  and  revolt  of  Palermo.  {Par.  viii.  73  sqq.) 

1289.  June  11.    Dante  fights  as  a  Guelf  in  the  battle  of  Campaldiuo 

and  the  siege  of  Caprona.  {Inf.  xxi.  95.)  Murder  of 
Francesca  da  Eimini.  {Inf.  v.  71  sqq.)  Death  of  Count 
Ugolino.     {Inf.  xxxii.  124,  xxxiii.  78.) 

1290.  December  31.     Death  of  Beatrice.     (Pwr^.  xxxii.  2,  "  decen- 

nial thirst.") 
1290  or  1291.     Dante  wrote  the  Vita  Nuova,  the  story  of  Beatrice. 
1290-'92.     Episode  of  the  Donna  Pietosa.     Study  of  philosophy  and 

secular  pursuits.     (See  end  of  Vita  Nuova,  and  beginning 

of  Convito.) 
1292.     Dante  marries  Gemma  Donati,  of  the  noble  family  of  Corso 

Donati,  the  leader  of  the  Guelfs.     {Purg.  xxiv.  82  :  "he 

whose  guilt  is  most.") 

1294.  Pope   Celestine  V.   makes,   through   cowardice,    ' '  the  great 

refusal."  {Inf.  IV.  59  sqq.,  xxvil.  104  sqq.)  But  the  refer- 
ence to  this  sainted  pope  is  doubtful.  Election  of  Boni- 
face VIII. 

1295.  Dante  joins  the  guild  of  Physicians  and  Apothecaries,  and  is 

entered  as  Poeta  Fiorentino. 

1296.  Dante  exercises  his  civil  rights  as  a  citizen  of  Florence. 

1299.  May.    Dante  is  sent  as  an  ambassador  of  the  republic  of  Flor- 

ence to  S.  Gemignano. 

1300.  June  15th  to  Aug.  15th.    Dante  is  one  of  the  six  Priors  of  the 

Republic  of  Florence.  Joins  the  Ghibellines  ;  opposes  the 
interference  of  Boniface  VIII.  ;  expels  the  leaders  of  the 
Blacks  and  Whites.  The  Papal  jubilee  in  Rome.  (Alluded 
to  in  Inf.  XVIII.  29  sqq. ;  Purg.  Ii.  98.) 

1301.  September  or  October.     Dante  sent  as  ambassador  to  Rome. 
1301.     November.     Charles  of  Valois,  by  authority  of  Pope  Boniface 

VIII.,  enters  Florence  as  "Pacificator  of  Tuscany."  Tri- 
umph of  the  Guelfs. 


DANTE   ALIGHIEKI.  327 

1302.     Januaiy  27tb.    Dante  hanished  from  Florence  for  two  years  and 
punislied  by  a  line  of  5000  florins. 

1302.  Manh  lOtli.     Dante  banished  for  life,  on  pain  of  being  burnt 

alive  in  case  of  his  retnrn, 

1303.  Capture  and  death  of  Boniface  YIIL,  at  Ana<ini.    {luf.  xrx.  53  ; 

xxvii.  70,  85  ;  Pitrg.  xvii.  50  ;  XX.   85  sqq.  ;  xxvii.  22; 
XXX.  148  ;  xxxir.  14S  sqq.:  xxxiii.  44  sqq.    Far.  ix.  132; 
XII.  10  ;   XXVII.  20  sqq.) 
1305.     Election  of  Pope  Clement   Y.     Transfer  of  the  paj^al  see  to 
Avignon.     {Inf.  Xix.  83  ;  Far.  xvil.  82  ;  xxx.  143.) 

1308.  Murder  of  Emperor  Albert  I.     {Purrj.  vi.  98  ;  Far.  xix.  115.) 

Death  of  Corso  Donati,  Dante's  iwlitical  enemy.  {Farg. 
XXIV.  82.) 

1309.  Henry  YIL,  Duke  of  Luxemburg,  elected  Emperor. 

1310.  Henry  YIL  arrives  in  Italy  and  is  crowned  at  ]Milan,  with  the 

iron  crown  of  Lombardy.  Dante  meets  him  at  Susa,  or 
Turin,  or  ]Milan,  greets  him  as  a  second  ]Moses,  exhorts  him 
to  sulxlue  Florence,  and  calls  upon  all  the  rulers  of  Italy  to 
submit  to  the  authority  of  the  new  Emperor,  who  was 
again  crowned  with  the  golden  crown  at  Home,  1312,  but 
died  in  1313.  {Far.  xvii.  82,  "the  noble  Henry ;"'  xxx. 
135,  138.) 

1311.  September  6th.     The  sentence  of  banishment  renewed  against 

Dante. 

1313.  Death  of  Henry  YIL     Dante's  political  hopes  transferred  to 

Can  Grande,  of  Yerona,  or  some  future  deliverer  and 
reformer. 

1314.  Uguccione  della   Faggiola  conquers   Lucca.     Death  of  Clem- 

ent Y.  and  of  Philip  the  Fair,  of  France.  {Inf.  xix.  83  sqq. ; 
Furg.  Yil.  109  ;  Far.  XIX.  118.) 

1315.  November  6th.    Florence  again  renews  the  sentence  of  banish- 

ment, and  extends  it  to  the  sons  of  Dante. 

1316.  John  XXII.  elected  Pope.     {Far.  xxvii.  58.)     Dante  refuses 

to  be  pardoned  on  condition  of  admitting  his  guilt. 
1317-1319  or  20.     Dante  resides  at  Yerona  with  Can  Grande.     {Inf.  i. 

100  sqq.  ;  Far.  XVII.  75  sqq.  ;  Furg.  XXXIII.  39  sqq.) 
1320-21.    Dante  at  Ravenna,  under  the  protection  of  Guido  Novello  da 

Polenta.  Completes  the  Divina  Commedia. 
1321.  September  14th.  Death  of  Dante  at  Eavenna. 
1865.     Celebration  of  the  sixth  centenary  of  Dante's  birth. 


328  DANTE  ALIGHIERI. 


DANTE  LITERATURE, 

Selected,  classified  and  arranged  according  to  nationality  and  language. 

The  Dante  literature  is  very  extensive,  and  constantly  increasing.  It  was 
most  fruitful  in  1865  (the  sixth  centenary  of  Dante's  birth)  and  in  the  last 
few  years  (to  1890).     It  is  very  fully  noticed  in  the  following  books : — 

CoLOMB  DE  Bentines  :  BihUografia  Dantesca.  Prato,  1846  ;  with  the  sup- 
plements of  GuiDO  BiAGi,  Firenze,  1888. 

Ferrazi  :  3IanuaJe  JDantesco.     Bassano,  1865-'77,  vols.  IV.  and  v. 

J.  Petzholdt  :  Caialogiis  Bibliotkecse  Dantese.     Nova  editio,  Dresdaj,  1855. 

U.  Hoepli  :  Biblioteca  Dantesca  ;  opere  di  Dante  e  commenti.  Milano,  1888, 
pp.  41. 

Jahrhucher  der  DeutscJien  Dante  Gesellschaft.  Leipzig,  1877,  vol.  IV.,  594- 
672. 

Bollettino  delle  puhticazioni  italiane  of  the  National  Library  of  Florence. 

Catalogue  of  the  British  Museum,  London,  1887  (Dandagnan-Daventrys, 
col.  3-58). 

Harvard  University  Bulletin,  Cambridge,  ISIass.,  vol.  iv.,  Nos.  2-6  (1885- 
'87)  ;  and  vol.  v.,  Nos.  2-6  (1888-'89). 

W.  C.  Lane  :  Dante  Bibliography  for  the  Year  1888,  in  the  ' '  Eiglith 
Annual  Report  of  the  Dante  Society,"  Cambridge  (University  Press),  1889, 
pp.  83-98. 

The  richest  Dante  library  in  America  belongs  to  Harvard  College,  Cam- 
bridge, Mass.,  and  consists  (as  Mr.  Justin  Winsor,  the  librarian,  informed 
me)  of  1164  volumes  of  Dante  and  on  Dante.  The  three  most  eminent 
Dante  scholars  in  America — Longfellow,  Lowell,  and  Norton — were  connected 
with  that  college.  The  American  Dante  Society  has  its  centre  in  Cambridge, 
and  adds  annually  to  the  literature.  Next  to  Harvard  College,  the  Public 
Library  of  Boston  has,  perhaps,  the  largest  Dante  collection  in  America.  I 
examined  them  both  in  July,  1889,  without  profit.  The  Astor  Library  of 
New  York  and  Cornell  University  have  also  a  considerable  number  of  works 
of  Dante  and  on  Dante. 

I.  Standard  Editions  of  the  Divina  Commedia  and  Minor  Works 

OF  Dante. 

There  are  in  all  about  350  printed  editions  of  the  Commedia  since  1472. 
(to  1890).  Most  of  them  appeared  in  the  19th  century.  Scartazziui  counts 
257  editions  from  1801-1882.  Lord  Vernon  gives  a  list  of  394  complete 
and  incomplete  editions,  translations,  comments  and  illustrations  of  Dante, 
from  1472-1850.  The  best  and  most  useful  editions  are  those  of  Lom- 
bard:, Fraticelli,  Bianchi,  Witte,  and  Scartazzini,  all  with  com- 
ments (except  Witte's).     Hoepli' s  edition  (Milan,  1878)  is  the  smallest. 

Le  Prime  Quattro  Edizione  della  Divina  CommediaHttcrahnenteristain- 
pateper  cura  di  G.  G.  Warrex,  Lord  Vernon.  Londra  (Boone),  1858, 
pp.  74S  fol.  Beprints  of  the  four  earliest  and  very  rare  editions  of  Foligno, 
Jesi,  jNIantua,  and  Naples.  (Only  100  copies  printed.  A  copy  in  the 
Astor  Library.) 


DANTE   xVLIGHIERI.  329 

U Inferno  di  Dante  Allglueri  ....    da  G.  G.  Warren,  Lord 

Vernon  (1803-'66).  Londra  (Boone),  1858-65  ;  3  vols.  fol.  In  Vol.  I. 
fol.  487-529  there  is  a  chronological  list  of  394  printed  editions  and  transla- 
tions of  Dante's  Inferno,  and  other  parts  of  the  Conimcdia^  from  1472- 
1850.  Vol.  I.  contains  the  Italian  text  with  brief  notes  ;  Vol.  II.  docu- 
ments ;  Vol.  III.  magnificent  illustrations.  An  edition  de  luxe.  A  copy 
presented  to  the  Astor  Library  by  the  son  of  Lord  Vernon. 

La  Conwiedia  di  Dante  Alighieri  col  Commento  inedito  di  Stefano 
TaJice  da  RicaJdone,  puhhlicato per  c^n-rr  (7<*  A^INCENZO  Promis  e  (^/ Carlo 
Negroni.  Torino,  1886,  pp.  xix.  and  593  fol.  The  Italian  text  with  a 
Latin  commentary  from  the  year  1474.  An  ed.  gotten  up  by  King 
Umberto  I.  of  Italy  and  dedicated  to  his  son  Vittorio  Emanuele.  Few 
copies  printed  and  presented  by  the  King — one  to  the  Astor  Library,  one 
to  Prof  Botta,  in  New  York.  The  same  text  and  commentary  in  3  vols. 
8°,  published  by  Ulrico  Hoeph,  Milano,  1888. 

La  Divina  Commedia  di  Dante  Alighieri coJ  commento  del  P.  Baldas- 
SARRE  LOMBARDI.  Roma,  1815,  3  vols.  ;  Padua,  1822  ;  Firenze,  1830, 
in  4  vols.  8°.  The  4th  Vol.  contains  the  minor  works  of  Dante.  Also 
other  edd. 

L' Inferno  di  Dante  Alighieri  coUe  figure  di  G.  DoRE.  Parigi,  1861, 
pp.  184  fol.  Le  Purgatoire  et  Paradis  avec  les  dessins  de  G.  DoRE. 
Traduction  frangaise  de  Pier-Augelo  Fiorentino,  accompagnee  du  text 
italien.  Paris,  1868,  pp.  407.  A  French  prose  translation  with  the  Italian 
text  below  and  the  magnificent  illustrations  of  Dore  interspersed. 

Carlo  (Karl)  Witte  :  La  Divina  Commedia  di  Dante  Alighieri 
ricorretta  sopra  quattro  die pia  autorevoU  testi  a  penna.  Berliuo  (Ridolfo 
Decker),  1862,  with  critical  prolegomena  and  notes,  725  pp.  fol.  Dedi- 
cated to  King  John  of.  Saxony  (Philalethes).  The  best  critical  text,  which 
may  be  called  the  textus  receptus.  A  small  ed.  without  Prolegomena, 
Berhn,  1862,  reprinted  at  Milan,  1864.  I  have  followed  Witte  in  the  Italian 
< {notations,  but  have  also  compared  Scartazzini  and  Fraticelli. 

Giovanni  A.  Scartazzini:  La  Divina  Commedia  di  Dante  Alighieri 
rivedutcij  nel  testo  e  commentata.  Leipzig  (F.  A.  Brockhaus),  1874-'82,  3 
vols.  12°  (vol.  I.  pp.  444  ;  vol.  II,  pp.  817  ;  vol.  IIL  p.  905).  The  text 
with  an  exhaustive  commentary  in  very  small  type.  In  the  Preface  to  vol. 
I.,  dated  Coira  (or  Coire  in  Switzerland),  July,  1873,  the  editor  says  that 
he  has  collected  and  studied  all  the  commentaries,  Italian,  German  and 
French,  and  promises  a  fourth  volume  containing  Prolegomeni  storico- 
letterari.  Comp.  the  favorable  notice  of  Witte  in  his  Dante- Forschungen^ 
II,  455,  which  I  have  not  seen. 

Brunone  Bianchi  :  La  Commedia  di  D.  A,  Firenze,  7th  ed.,  1868. 
Text  and  commentary  (pp.  762),  with  rimario  (pp.  112). 

P.  Fraticelli' s  ed.  in  one  volume,  with  rimario.  Firenze,  1873,  1877  ; 
nova  ed.,  1887  (pp.  723  and  112). 

Eaffaele  Andreoli  :  La  Divina  Commedia  di  Dante  AlighieH  col 
commento.    Napoli,  1856,  etc.,  Firenze  (editione  stereotipa),  1887  (pp.  351). 


330  DANTE  ALIGHIERL 

ToMMASO  Casini  :  La  Didna  Commedia  col  commento.  Firenze, 
1889. 

Contributions  to  the  Textual  Criticisms  of  the  Divina  Commedia^  includ- 
ing a  complete  Collation  throughout  the  ''Inferno'  of  all  the  MSS.  at 
Oxford  and  Cambridge.  By  the  Rev.  Edward  Moore,  D.D..,  Princi- 
pal of  St.  Edmund  HaU.,  Oxford,  and  Barlow  Lecturer  on  Dante  in  the 
Unirersity  of  London.  Cambridge  (University  Press)  andN,  York,  (Mac- 
millan),  1889,  pages  723,  and  Prolegg.  LVI.  Dedicated  to  tlie  memory  of 
Dr.  Karl  Witte.  The  most  important  contribution  since  Witte'  s  edition, 
to  the  settlement  of  the  true  text.  Moore  reprints  Witte' s  text  of  the 
'  Inferno'  with  a  complete  collation  of  17  MSS.,  and  a  partial  examination 
of  the  500  to  600  known  MSS.  in  regard  to  the  most  important  test  pas- 
sages of  the  whole  poem.  He  regards  the  Commedia  as  "perhaps  the 
greatest  work  of  human  genius  in  any  language." 

Opere  Mlnori  di  Dante  {i\iQ  Vita  Nuova.^  the  Convlto.,  the  Canzoinere., 
De  Jlonarchia,  De  Vulgari  Elogio,  Credo,  and  Epistolce),  by  Pietro 
Fraticelli  and  others,  with  notes.  Firenze,  1 834-' 40,  3  vols.  ]2mo.  ;  new 
ed.  1861,  and  1873,  several  times  reprinted;  and  by  Gr.  R.  Giuliani, 
Firenze,  1868-82,  4  vols.,  12mo. 

II.  Italian  Works  ox  Dante. 

Giovanni  Boccaccio  (1313-1375) :  La  Vita  di  Dante.  Venice,  1477, 
etc.,  lasted.  Firenze,  1888,  pp.  100.  II  Commento  sopra  la  Commedia 
dl  Dante.  Eoma,  1544,  often  republished  («?.  g.,  Firenze,  1831  and  1844, 
3  vols.,  1863,  2  vols.).  Boccaccio's  comments  reach  only  to  the  17th  canto 
of  the  Inferno. 

Benvenuto  Rambaldi  da  Imola:  Commentum,  etc.,  Sumptibus 
Gull.  Warren  Vernon,  curante  Phlllppo  Lacalta.  Florence,  1887,  5 
vols.  Benvenuto  da  Imola  was  a  friend  of  Boccaccio  and  the  oldest  lec- 
turer on  Dante  at  Bologna  (1375). 

L'Ottimo  Commento  della  Divina  Com.  Testo  inedlto  d' un  contempo- 
raneo  di  Dante  (1 334)  pubbllcato  per  cura  dl  Aless.  Torri.  Pisa,  1827-'29. 
3  vols.  8°.     Usually  quoted  Ottimo.     Comp.  Witte,  Dante-Forsch.  I. ,  358. 

Cesare  Balbo  :  Vita  di  Dante.  Firenze,  1853.  Translated  by  F.  J. 
BrNBURY,  in  The  Life  and  Times  of  Dante.     Loudon,  1852,  2  vols. 

PiETRO  Fraticelli:  Storla  della  Vita  dl  Dante  Allglilerl.  With 
documents  partly  unpublished.     Firenze,  1861. 

Guiseppe  Jac.  Ferrazi:  Manuale  Danta^co.  Bassano,  1 865-' 77,  5 
vols.     The  last  two  vols,  contain  the  bibliograi)hy. 

Glornale  de  Centenarlo  dl  Dante  All Ighlerl.     Firenze,  1 864-' 65. 

Dante  e  II  suo  secolo.  Firenze,  1865.  By  various  Dante  scholars,  in 
honor  of  the  600th  aimiversary  of  his  birth. 

A.  G.  DE  jMlrzo  :  Stndlfllosoficl,  morall,  storlcl,  polltlcf  filologlcl  su 
la  iJlvlna  Commedia  dl  Dante  Allghleri.  Firenze,  1864-'81,  3  large  fol. 
vols. 


DANTE  ALIGHIERI.  331 

Giovanni  A.  Scartazzini  (a  Swiss  pastor  and  eminent  Dante  scholar, 
who  writes  German  and  Itahau)  :  Dante  Aliglncri,  seine  Zcit,  sein  Lcbcn 
und  seine  Werke,  Biel,  1809;  2d  ed.,  1879.  Dmitc  in  Gennania,  storia 
h'ttcraria  ehiUiogntjid  Dantesea  Alemanna.  Milano,  1881,  2  vols.  Ab- 
Jiandlnnf/ea  ilher  Dante,  1880.  Dante  Milano,  1883;  and  other  works. 
His  edition  of  the  Com.  and  commentary  mentioned  above.  Thomas 
Davidson  has  translated  his  Handbook  to  Dante.     See  below. 

Adolfo  Bartolt  :  Delia  Vita  di  Dante  Alighieri.  Firenze,  1884  (pp. 
305).     This  is  the  fifth  volume  of  his  Sforia  ddla  Jetteratura  Italiana. 

G.  Giordano  :  Stndi  sulla  Divina  Comniedia  di  Dante  Alighieri. 
Napoli,  188-l:-"80,  2  vols. 

G.  POLETTO  :  Dizinario  Dantesco.     Siena,  1S85-"S7.     7  vols. 

D.  Fransoni  :  Studi  vari  sulla  Divina  Comniedia  di  Dante.  Firenze, 
1887. 

G.  Stiavelli  :  Gli  amnri  di  Dante  raccontati  da  lui  medesimo  {Vita 
]VuoL-a  e  Canzoniere)  con  prefatione  e  note.     Roma,  1888. 

GlOSUE  Carducci  :  Delia  varia  Fortnna  di  Dante,  in  his  "  Studi  lette- 
rari."  Leghorn,  1874,  pp.  239-370;  -awID opera  di  Dante  (a  discourse 
delivered  in  Rome,  Jan.  8th,  1888),  Bologna,  2ded.,  1888  (pp.  62). 

GuiSEPPE  FiNZi:   Saggi  Danteschi.     Torino,  1888  (pp.  148). 

F.  Scaramuzza:  Illustrazioni della  Divina  Comniedia.  Milano,  1874- 
'70,  3  vols.  fol.  with  243  photographs. 

III.  Feexcii  Works. 

B.  Grangier  :  La  cnmkliedi Dante  .  .  .  miseenrimefrancoiseet 
commentte.     Paris,  1590-'97,  3  vols. 

Voltaire,  the  keenest  and  shari)est  wit  of  the  1 8th  century,  regarded 
Dante  and  Shakespeare  as  semi-barbarian  monsters.  In  a  sketch  of  Dante 
in  the  ' '  Dictionnaire  Philosophique, "  he  saj's  :  "  Xes  Italiens  T appellent 
divin  ;  mais  c^ est  wie  diuinite  cache e ;  p)eu  de  gens  entendent  ses  oracles ;  il 
a  des  commentateurs:  c  est  p)eut-i'tre  encore  nne  raison  de  plus  pour  n^ etre 
pas  comp)ris.  Sa  reputation  s' affermera.  toujours,  piarce  qiC on  ne  le  lit 
gucre. ' '  Renan  remarks,  ' "  Voltaire  understood  neither  the  Bible,  nor 
Homer,  nor  Greek  art,  nor  the  ancient  religions,  nor  Christianity,  nor  the 
3IiddleAges." 

A.  F.  OzANAM  :  Dante  et  la  X)hilosophie  catJiolirpie  au  13me  siecle. 
Paris,  1840  ;  new  ed.  1845  ;  third  ed.  1855  ;  4th  ed.  1859.  Also  translated 
into  Italian,  German  and  English.  He  translated  the  Purgatoire,  1862. 
He  happily  calls  Dante  ' '  the  Homer  of  Catholicism. ' ' 

Artaud  DE  MoNTOR  :  Ilistoire  de  Dante  Al.  Paris,  1841  ;  La  divine 
comedie,  traduite  en  franrais ;  3d  ed.  Paris,  1849.  A  prose  translation  first 
publ.  1811-13. 

Edgar  Quinet  :  Dante,  in  his  Les  revolutions  d' Ltalie.  Paris,  1848.  He 
calls  the  Commedia  ''V  Odyssee  du  chretien ;  lui  voyage  dans  V injini,  mele 
dangoisses  et  de  chants  de  sirenes,  mi  itineraire  de  Vhomme  vers  Dieu.'^ 


832  DANTE   ALIGHIERI. 

M.  Fauriel  :  Dante  et  les  origines  de  la  litterature  Ital'ienne.  Paris, 
1854,  2  vols. 

M.  De  Saint-Mauris  :  La  Dlv.  comedie,  trad.,  auec  loi  resume  histor- 
ique  et  Kite  notice  sur  Dante.     Paris,  1853,  2  vols. 

See.  Riieal  :  La  Divine  comedie.,  traduction  nouveUe.,  avec  des  notes 
d'apres  les  medleurs  commentaires,  par  L.  Barre.     Paris,  1854. 

E.  Aroux  :  Ijcl  comedie  de  Dante.,  tvaduite  en  vers  selon  la  lettre.,  et 
conwientce  selon  V esprit.  Paris,  1856.  Dante  heretique,  revolutionnaire  et 
socialiste.  Revelations  dJ  mi  catholique  sur  le  moyen-dge.  Paris,  1854 
(l^p.  472).  This  book  is  dedicated  to  Pope  Pius  IX. ,  aud  tlie  author  is  as 
good  a  Catholic  as  Ozanam,  but  he  views  Dante  in  an  altogether  different 
light,  as  a  conceited  heretic  and  enemy  of  the  papacy. 

F.  BoiSSARD  :  Dante  revolutionnaire  et  socialiste.,  mais  iion  heretique ; 
revelation  sur  les  revelations  de  M.  Aroux  et  defense  d'  Ozanam.  Paris, 
1854. 

Louis  Ratisbonne  :  Denfer,  traduit  en  ver.se.  Paris,  1853  ;  3^  ed.  1860  ; 
Le  purgatoire,  1856;  Le  paradis.,  1860. 

M.  Mesnard  :  La  D.  comedie  de  Dante  J..,  trad,  nouvelle.  Notes  per 
31.  Leonce  Mesnard.     Paris,  1 854-' 57,  3  vols. 

Lamenais  :  La,  D.  comedie  de  Dante  A..,  precedee  d'  une  introduction 
sur  la  vie.,  la  doctnne  et  les  oeuvres  de  Dante.     Paris,  1855,  3  vols. 

J.  A.  DeMongis:  La  D.  comedie  de  D.  A,  traduite  en  vers  franrais. 
Dijon  et  Paris,  1857. 

E.  Magnier  :  Dante  et  le  moyen-dge.     Paris,  1860. 

F.  Bergmaxx  :  Dante,  sa  vie  et  ses  oeuvres.     Paris,  1866. 
Francisque  IIeynard  :    La  Divine  Comedie.      Traduction  nouvelle. 

Paris,  1877,  2  vols,  (prose  translation  with  a  life  of  Dante). 

Marc-Monnier  :  La  renaissance  de  Dante  a  Luther.  Paris,  1884 
(528  pp.). 

H.  Yisox  :  Denfer,  traduit.     Paris  (Hachette),  1888  (232  pp.). 

Gust.  Dore's  125  large  illustrations,  Paris  (Hachette),  2  vols,  fol., 
often  reproduced  in  many  editions. 

IV.  German  Works. 
Jos.  VON  ScHELLiNG  :  JJeber  Dante  in  iilidosoplmcher  Bezieliung. 
An  essay  in  the  "  Kritisches  Journal  der  Philosophic,"  ed.  by  Schelliug 
und  Hegel,  vol.  ii.,  No.  3,  pp.  35-50,  Tubingen,  1803.  Reprinted  in  his 
Worli:s,  vol.  v.  152  sqq.  A  masterpiece  of  philosophical  criticism.  An 
English  translation  in  Longfellow's  Dante,  li.  435-446.  Schelling  has 
translated  also  some  parts  of  the  Commedia,  viz.  :  the  inscription^ on  the 
gate  of  Hell  (unrhymed)  and  the  second  canto  of  the  Paradise  (in  terza 
rima).  He  fully  appreciated  Dante.  So  did  also  Hegel,  who  calls  the 
D.  Comedy  "  the  purest  and  richest  work,  the  proi)er  epos  of  the  Christian 
Catholic  Middle  Ages,"  and  "the  greatest  poem  in  the  department  of 
religious  heroic  poetry."     {Lectures  on  ^Esthetics,  III.  408.) 


DANTE  ALIGHIERI.  333 

B.  K.  Abeken  :  Beitrilge  fur  das  Studium  der  Gotdichen  Kombdie 
Dante  AUyhicri' s.     Berliu,  1826. 

L.  Gr.  Blanc  :  Dante  Allighleri  Leipzig,  1832.  Article  in  Erscli  and 
Gruber's  "Eiicyel."  Sect.  I.  Part  xxiil.,  34-79.  Very  elaborate  aud 
accurate.  Blanc  was  one  of  the  first  Dante  scholars,  who  wrote  also  a  Vocah- 
olario  Dantcsco^  Leipzig,  1852,  and  a  translation  of  the  Commedia  with 
commentar}',  18G4. 

J.  K.  BXhr  :  Dante  s  GottL  Koinodie  in  Hirer  Anoixhiung  nach  Raum 
und  Zcit,  etc.     Dresden,  1852. 

Emil  Buth  :  Studlen  iiber  Dante  AUgkierl^  e'ui  Beitrag  zum  Verstdnd- 
niss  der  guttl.  Komodie.     Tiibingen,  1853. 

F.  Chr.  Schlosser:  Dante-Studien.     Leipzig,  1855. 

H.  Floto  :  Dante  A. ^  sein  Lehen  inid  seine  Werhe.     Stuttgart,  1858. 

Th.  Paur  :  Ueber  die  QueUeii  zur  Lehensgescluclite  Dante  s.  Gorlitz, 
1862.     A  careful  collocation  of  all  the  older  reports  of  Dante's  life. 

F.  Piper:  Dante  und  seine  Theologie.  In  his  "Evangel.  Kalender." 
Berlin,  1865. 

K.  F.  GosCHEL :  Vortrdge  und  Studieii  iiher  Dante  (posthumous), 
Berlin,  1863.  His  article  Dante,  in  Herzog's  "Encycl."  III.  286-296; 
revised  by  K.  Witte,  in  the  second  ed.  vol.  iii.  485-495. 

Karl  Wiite  (Prof  in  Halle)  :  Dante- Forschun gen.  Altes  und  Neiies. 
Halle  and  Heilbronn,  1869-79.  2  vols.  Witte  was  the  greatest  German 
Dante  scholar.  He  and  Scartazziui  have  made  Dante  a  life-long  study,  and 
are  his  best  interpreters.  Witte  wrote  about  48  books  and  essays  on  Dante, 
and  published  one  of  the  best  editions  of  the  Italian  text  (see  above,  p.  329,) 
and  an  excellent  German  version,  Dante  Aligliieri's  Gottliche  Komodie, 
im  secJisten  Sdcidarjahr  nach  des  Dichters  Geburt,  with  introduction  and 
notes,  Berlin,  1865,  pp.  728  ;  3d  ed.  1876.  Most  of  his  minor  Dante 
publications  are  collected  in  his  Dante- Forschungen.  Dean  Plumptre 
(iL,  487)  pays  him  a  just  tribute  of  praise. 

Franz  X.  Wegele  (Prof  of  History  in  Wtirzburg) :  Dante  Alighierts 
Lehen  und  Werke.  Jena,  1852;  2d  ed.  1865  (pp.  604);  3d.  ed.,  1879 
(pp.  629).  A  critical  account  of  Dante's  life,  his  pohtics,  and  Divina 
Commedia,  with  documents. 

Deutsche  Dante-Gesellschaft  :  Jahrbilcher,  Leipzig,  1867-77,4 
vols.     Contributions  from  Witte,  Scartazzini,  Giuliani,  Paur,  Huber,  et€. 

F.  Hettinger  (R.  Cath.  Professor  of  Theol.  in  Wiirzburg)  :  Die  got- 
tliche Komodie  des  Dante  Alighieri  nach  ihrein  wesentlicheii  Inhalt  und 
Charalder  dargestellt.  Freiburg  im  Breisgau,  1880  (586  pages).  Abridged 
Enghsh  translation  by  //.  *S'.  Bowden,  London,  1887.  French  transl.  by 
P.  Mansion.  Gand,  1888.  Hettinger  also  wrote  Dante  and  Beatnce. 
Frankfurt-a-M. ,  1883.  He  gives  the  best  exposition  of  Dante's  theology 
from  the  Boman  Catholic  point  of  view,  as  Ozanam  does  in  French. 

Paul  Scheffer-Boichorst  :  Aus  Dante  s  Verbannung.  Strassburg, 
1882  (254  pp.). 


334  DANTE  ALIGHIERI. 

LuDW.  Geiger  :  RenamanceundJIumanismiism  Italien  inid  Deutscli- 
lancl     Berlin,  1882,  pp.  7-23. 

Ig.  yon  Dullinger  (Old  Catli.)  :  Dante  ah  Prophet.  An  address 
delivered  before  the  Munich  Academy  of  Sciences,  Nov.  3  5,  1887.  Publ. 
m\\\^  Ahulem.   Vortrdge,  Nordlingen,  1888,  pp.  78-117, 

G.  GlETMANN,  (S.  J.)  :  Beatrice.  Geist  und  Kern  der  Danteschen  Dlcli- 
tnngen.  Freiburg  i.  B.,  1889  (pp.  198).  By  the  same:  Die  Gdttliche 
Konwdie,  in  ' '  Klassische  Diehter  und  Dichtungen. ' '    First  Part  (pp.  42G). 

Gorman  translations  of  the  D.  Com.  with  comments  by  CiiR.  Jos. 
Jagemann  (the  Inferno,  unrhymcd,  1781-"82)  ;  A.  W.  ScHLEGEL  (por- 
tions only,  but  very  well  done,  1795);  K.  L.  Kannegiesser  (1809,  '14, 
'25,  4th  ed.  1843,  in  ternary  rhyme)  ;  Karl  Streckfuss  (1824,  third 
ed.  1853,  in  triple  rhyme  ;  new  ed.  by  Bud.  Pfleiderer,  1876)  ;  Aug. 
KOPISCH  (1 837-' 42,  3d  ed.  1882) ;  Philalethes  (King  John  of  Saxony 
— one  of  the  very  best  translations,  unrhymed,  1828,  1839,  '65,  '71)  ;  Karl 
Graul  {IMle,  Leipzig,  1843;  in  triple  rhyme) ;  L.  G.  Blano  (1864,  in 
blank  verse) ;  Karl  Witte  (1865,  3d  ed.  1876,  in  blank  verse) ;  Karl 
EiTNER  (1865) ;  Josefa  von  Hoffinger  (Wien,  1865,  3  vols.,  m  triple 
rhyme) ;  Fr.  Notter  (Stuttgart,  1872) ;  Karl  Bartsch  (Leipzig,  1877) ; 
Jul.  Franche  (1885) ;  Otto  Gildemeister  (Berlin,  1888,  pp.  551  ;  with 
a  general  introduction  of  23  pp. ,  and  brief  introductions  to  each  canto). 

There  are  also  fi'agmentary  translations,  especially  of  the  fifth  canto  of 
the  Inferno  (Francesca  da  Bimini)  of  which  Beinhold  Kohler  has  published 
twenty-two  in  his  Derfilnfte  Gesang  der  Ilolle  in  zicei  und  zwanzig  Ueber- 
setzungen  seit  1763  his  1865.     Weimar,  1865  (pp.  176). 

Plumptre  says  {Dante,  li.  486):  "  It  is  no  exaggeration  to  say  that  the 
Germans  have  taught  Italians  to  understand  and  appreciate  their  own  poet, 
just  as  they  have  at  least  helped  Englishmen  to  understand  Shakespeare. ' ' 

Prof  Botta  {Introd.  to  the  Studu  of  Dante,  p.  145),  gives  a  list  of  Dante 
lectures  delivered  in  German  Universities,  and  says:  "It  is  in  Germany 
that  Dantephilism  has  made  most  rapid  progress.  The  writings  of 
Schlosser,  Kopisch,  Buth,  Wegele,  Paur,  Blanc,  Karl  Witte,  and  Phila- 
lethes furnish  a  vast  amount  of  valuable  criticism  and  research  in  the 
various  branches  of  history,  theology,  philosophy  and  gesthetics,  as  con- 
nected with  the  great  poem." 

V.  English  and  American  Works. 

(Lord)T.  B.  Macaulay:  Criticisms  on  the  Frinci2)al  Italian  Writers.  M). 
I.  Dante.  In  "  Knight's  Quarterly  Magazine,"  January,  1824  ;  comp.  also 
his  essay  on  Petrarch  (1824),  and  on  Milton  (1825) ;  all  these  reprinted  in 
the  first  V(jlume  of  his  Essays.  In  his  essay  on  Milton  is  his  brilliant  com- 
parison of  the  two  poets.     See  Longfellow  ii.  395  sqq. 

Thomas  Carlyle  :  The  Hero  as  Poet,  in  his  Heroes  and  Hero  Worship. 
London,  LS4f),  etc.     Beprinted  in  Longfellow  II.  381-395. 

James  Henry  Leigh  IIijnt  (d.  1859) :  Stories  from  the  Italian  Poets, 


DANTE   ALIGHIERI.  OOO 

ivith  Lives  of  the  Writers.  London,  1846,  2  vols.  (A\)l.  i.)  Reprinted  in 
part  b}^  Longfellow,  II.  409,  sqq.  Hunt  calls  the  Comedy  ' '  the  saddest  i)oem 
in  the  world,"  "an  infernal  tragedy,"  "a  series  of  imaginative  pictures 
altogether  forming  an  account  of  the  author's  times,  his  friends,  his  ene- 
mies, and  himself,  written  to  vent  the  spleen  of  his  exile  and  the  rest  of 
his  feelings,  good  and  bad,  and  reform  church  and  state  by  a  spirit  of  resent- 
ment and  obloquy,  which  highly  needed  reform  itself"  Hunt  would 
have  him  send  nobody  to  Ilell.  But,  he  adds,  "when  Dante  is  great, 
nobody  surpasses  him.  .  .  .  He  was  a  gratuitous  logician,  a  preposterous 
politician,  a  cruel  theologian  ;  but  his  wonderful  imagination,  and  (consid- 
ering the  bitterness  that  was  in  him)  still  more  wonderful  sweetness,  have 
gone  into  the  hearts  of  his  fellow-creatures,  and  will  remain  there  in  spite 
of  the  moral  and  religious  absurdities  with  which  they  are  mingled." 

Philip  Schaff  :  Dante.  An  Address  on  the  Die  in  a  Commedia,  deliv- 
ered before  the  Goethean  Literary  Society  of  Marshall  [now  Franklin  and 
Marshall]  College.,  at  its  Anniversary,  Aug.  28,  181^6.  Translated  by 
Jeremiah  H.  Good,  A. 31.  Chambersburg,  Penn.,  1846,  pp.  47.  [Writ- 
ten at  a  time  when  the  author  knew  more  Italian  but  less  English  than 
afterwards.  His  articles  on  Dante  in  this  volume  are  entirely  new,  but  the 
estimate  of  Dante  is  the  same  as  that  in  his  youthful  address.] 

R.  AY.  Church  (Dean  of  St.  Paul's)  :  Dante:  an  Essay.  First  publ. 
in  the  "Christian  Remembrancer"  of  Jan.  1850;  then  separately,  Lon- 
don, 1854,  and  1878,  with  a  translation  of  Dante's  De  Monarchia,  by  F. 
C.  Church  (a  son  of  the  Dean).  The  Essay  was  published  again  under  the 
title  :  Dante  and  other  Essays,  London,  1888. 

H.  H.  MiLMAN  :  History  of  Latin  Christianity.     Book  XIY.,  chs.  2,  5. 

H.  C.  Barlow  :  Contributions  to  the  Study  of  the  D.  Commedia. 
London,  1864. 

YlNCENZO  Bo'lTA :  Dante  as  Philosopher,  Patriot,  and  Poet.  With 
an  Analysis  of  the  Divina  Commedia,  its  Plot  and  Episodes.  New  York, 
1865,  '67.  A  new  ed.  under  the  title  :  Introduction  to  the  Study  of  Dante. 
New  York,  1886  (413  pages). 

Dante  G-abriel  Rossetti  (1 828-' 82,  poet  and  painter,  son  of  GabrieH 
Rossetti,  an  Italian  poet  and  patriot  who  settled  in  London,  1824,  and  wrote 
books  on  Dante  in  an  anti-papal  spirit)  :  Dante  and  his  Circle:  With  the 
Italian  poets  preceding  him  (1100-1200-1300).  A  collection  of  Lyrics,  ed. 
and  transl.  in  the  or^iginal  metres.  London,  1861  ;  revised,  London,  1874  ; 
Boston  (Roberts  Brothers)  1876  (pp.  468).  The  first  part  contains  a  trans- 
lation of  the  Vita  Nuova  (pp.  29-110),  and  13  contemporary  poets  (Guide 
Cavalcanti,  Cino  da  Pistoia,  Guido  Orlandi,  etc.),  the  second  part,  44  poets 
before  Dante  (St.  Francis  of  iVssisi,  Frederick  II.,  King  Enzo,  Guido 
Guinicelli,  etc.). 

Maria  Francesca  Rossetti  (1827-1876,  sister  of  the  former):  A 
Shadow  of  Dante  :  being  an  Essay  towards  studying  himself,  his  world  and 


336  DANTE   ALIGHIERI. 

Ms  j)ilgr image.  London  (Eivingtons),  1871;  2d  ed.  1872  (pp.  296);  4th 
ed.  1884.  "With  illustrations.  The  same  illustrations  are  found  in  many 
editions,  e.  g.  that  of  Fraticelli.  Dante's  portrait,  his  universe,  the  hell, 
purgatory,  and  the  rose  of  the  blessed. 

Reports  or  THE  Dante  Society.  Cambridge,  Mass.,  1882-89.  James 
Russell  Lowell  is  President. 

S.  R  Clarke  :  The  Portraits  of  Dante.  New  York,  1884.  (The 
head  from  Raphael's  Disputa  in  the  Vatican,  Giotto's  portrait,  and 
the  profile  on  the  mausoleum  in  Ravenna. )  ' '  The  article  reproduces  a  large 
part  of  Professor  Norton's  paper  on  the  portraits  of  Dante,"  Harvard 
University  Bulletin,  Yol.  IV.,  No.  7,  p.  379. 

Thomas  Davidson  :  A  Ilandhooh  to  Dante.  By  Giovanni  A.  Scar- 
tazzini.  Translated  from  the  Italian,  with  notes  and  additions.  Boston 
(Ginn  &  Comp.),  1887,  (pp..  315.) 

E.  Allen  Fay  :  Concordance  of  the  Divina  Commedia.  Published  by 
the  Cambridge  (American)  Dante  Society,  Boston  and  London,  1888 
(pp.  819).     500  copies  printed. 

George  Rice  Carpenter  :  The  Episode  of  the  Donna  Pietosa,  being 
an  attempt  to  reconcile  the  statements  in  the  Vita  Nuova  and  the  Convito 
concerning  Dante  s  life  in  the  years  after  the  death  of  Beatrice  and  before 
the  beginning  of  tlie  Divina  Commedia.  Dante  Prize  Essay,  l^^%.  Pub- 
lished in  Cambridge,  Mass.,  1889,  pp.  23-79  of  the  Eighth  Annual  Report 
of  the  Dante  Society. 

May  Alden  Ward  :  Dante:  A  Sketch  of  his  Life  and  Works.  Bos- 
ton 1887  (pp.  303). 

Hon.  AYm.  Warren  Yernon:  Readings,  of  the  Purgatorio  of  Dante 
chiefly  based  upo7i  the  commentary  of  Benvenuto  da  Imola.  With  an  In- 
troductio7i  by  the  Dean  of  St.  Paul's.  London,  1889,  2  vols.  Similar 
Readings  on  the  Inferno  by  the  same  author  are  in  course  of  preparation. 

Good  articles  on  Dante  in  the  "Encyclopaedia  Britannica,  vol.  il.,  and 
in  SchaflF-Herzog's  "Rel.  Encycl."  i.  607  sqq.  (by  Dr.  Marvin  B. 
Yincent). 

English  Translations  of  the  Commedia,  with  notes  and  comments,  by 
Rev.  Henry  Francis  Cary  (1805,  '14,  '31,  '44,  '88,  etc.,  in  iambic  verse 
of  easy  elegance,  but  more  Mil  tonic  than  Dantesque,  still  the  most  read- 
able and  popular  translation,  highly  praised  by  Macaulay  both  for  its 
intimacy  with  the  language  of  Dante,  and  its  extraordinary  mastery  over 
the  English) ;  J.  C.  Wright  (London,  1843  ;  4th  ed.  1861) ;  J.  A.  Car- 
LYLE  (brother  of  Thomas  C.,only  the  Inferno,  in  literal  prose  with  the 
Italian  text  and  brief  notes,  1849,  '67,  '82);  IL  ^V.  Longfellow  (Bos- 
ton, 1867,  3  vols.,  in  many  American  and  English  editions ;  the  most  faith- 
iul  of  all  English  translations,  in  the  metre  of  the  original,  butunrhymed); 
Til.  W.  Parsons  {The  Inferno,  in  rhyme,  Boston,  Mass.  the  first  ten 
cantos  in  1843 ;  completed,  1867) ;  James  Ford  (1870) ;  William  Strat- 


DANTE   ALIGHIERI.  337 

FORD  DuGDALE  (tlie  Piirgntono,  tlie  Italian  text  with  a  prose  translation, 
similar  to  Carlyle's  Inferno,  London,  1883)  ;  James  Romanes  Sibbald 
(1884,  the  Inferno,  in  single  rhyme) ;  Arthur  John  Butler  (The  7^/<?-.(7a- 
tcmj,  London,  1880  ;  the  Faradiso,  1885  ;  the  Italian  text  with  prose  trans- 
lation, after  the  manner  of  Carlyle  and  Dugdale,  useful  for  comparison) ; 
Fred.  K.  H.  Haselfoot  (1887,  in  terza  rima  of  the  original);  E.  H. 
PumiPTRE,  Dean  of  Wells,  1887,  '88,  2  vols.,  in  monosyllabic  terza  rima, 
with  a  learned  biograjihical  introduction,  and  studies  on  important  topics, 
and  including  a  translation  of  the  Canzoniere) ;  John  Augustine  AVlL- 
stach  (Boston  and  N.  York,  Houghton,  Mifflin  &  Co.,  1888,  2  vols.). 


22 


POETIC  TEIBUTES  TO  DANTE. 

TWO  SONNETS  ON  DANTE. 
By  Michael  Angelo  Buonaeotti. 

Translated  from  the  Italian  by  Dean  Plumptre  {Dante,  ii.  420). 

I. 

Into  the  dark  abyss  he  made  his  way  ; 
Both  nether  worlds  he  saw,  and  in  the  might 
Of  his  great  soul  beheld  God's  splendor  bright, 

And  gave  to  us  on  earth  true  light  of  day  ; 

Star  of  supremest  worth  with  his  clear  ray, 
Heaven's  secrets  he  revealed  to  our  dim  sight, 
And  had  for  guerdon  what  the  base  world's  spite 

Oft  gives  to  souls  that  noblest  grace  display. 

Full  ill  was  Dante's  life-work  understood. 
His  purpose  high,  by  that  ungrateful  state. 

That  welcomed  all  with  kindness  but  the  good. 
Would  I  were  such,  to  bear  like  evil  fate, 

To  taste  his  exile,  share  his  lofty  mood  ! 
For  this  I'd  gladly  give  all  earth  calls  great. 

II. 

What  should  be  said  of  him  speech  may  not  tell ; 

His  splendor  is  too  great  for  men's  dim  sight ; 

And  easier  'twere  to  blame  his  foes  aright 
Than  for  his  poorest  gifts  to  praise  him  well. 

He  tracked  the  path  that  leads  to  depth  of  Hell, 
To  teach  us  wisdom,  scaled  the  eternal  height, 
And  Heaven  with  open  gates  did  him  invite. 

Who  in  his  own  loved  city  might  not  dwell. 

Ungrateful  countiy,  step-dame  of  his  fate. 
To  her  own  loss  ;  full  proof  we  have  in  this 
That  souls  must  perfect  bear  the  greatest  woe. 

Of  thousand  things  suffice  it  this  to  state  : 
No  exile  ever  was  unjust  as  his, 

Nor  did  the  world  his  equal  ever  know.  ^ 

1  Comp.  "Witte's  German  translation  of  these  sonnets  in  Dante-Forschungerif 
I.,  20. 


POETIC  TRIBUTES   TO   DANTE.  339 


DANTE. 
By  Ludwig  Uhland. 
War's  ein  Thor  der  Stadt  Florenz, 

Oder  war's  eiii  Thor  der  Himmel, 
Draus  am  klarsten  Friihlingmorgen 
Zog  ein  festliches  Grewimmel  ? 

Kinder,  hold  wie  Engelschaaren, 
Reich  geschmiickt  mit  Bluinenkniuzen, 

Zogen  in  das  Rosenthal 
Zu  den  frohen  Festestanzen. 

Unter  einem  Lorbeerbaume 

Stand,  damals  neunjahrig,  Dante, 

Der  im  lieblichsten  der  Miidchen, 
Seinen  Engel  gleich  erkannte. 

Rauschten  nicht  des  Lorbeers  Zweige, 
Von  der  Friihlingsluft  erschiittert  ? 

Klang  nicht  Dante's  junge  Seele, 
Yon  der  Liebe  Hauch  durchzittert  ? 

Ja !  ihm  ist  in  jener  Stunde 
Des  Gesanges  Quell  entsprungen, 

In  Sonetten,  in  Kanzonen 

Ist  die  Lieb'  ihm  friih  erklungen. 

Als,  zur  Jungfrau  hold  erwachsen, 

Jene  wieder  ihm  begegnet, 
Steht  auch  seine  Dichtung  schon 

Wie  ein  Baum,  der  Bliithen  regnet. 

Alls  dem  Thore  von  Florenz 
Zogen  dichte  Schaaren  wieder, 

Aber  langsam,  trauervoll, 
Bei  dem  Klange  dumpfer  Lieder. 

Unter  jenem  schwarzen  Tuch, 

Mit  dem  weissen  Kreuz  geschmticket, 

Tragt  man  Beatricen  bin, 
Die  der  Tod  so  friih  gepfliicket. 

Dante  sass  in  seiner  Kammer, 

Einsam,  still,  im  Abendlichte, 
Hbrte  fern  die  Glocken  tonen 

Und  verhiillte  sein  Gesichte. 


340  POETIC   TEIBUTES  TO  DANTE. 

In  der  Wiilder  tiefste  Schatten 
Stieg  der  edle  Sanger  nieder, 

Grleicli  den  fernen  Todtenglocken 
Tonten  fortan  seine  Lieder. 

Aber  in  der  wildsten  Oede, 
Wo  er  ging  mit  bangem  Stobnen ; 

Kam  zu  ihm  ein  Abgesandter 
Von  der  hingeschiednen  Schonen  ; 

Der  ihn  fiibrt'  an  treuer  Hand 

Durch  der  Holle  tiefste  Scblucbten, 

Wo  sein  ird'scher  Schmerz  verstummte 
Bei  dem  Anblick  der  Yerflucbten. 

Bald  zum  sel'gen  Licbt  empor 
Kam  er  auf  den  duukeln  Wegen  ; 

A  us  des  Paradieses  Pforte 
Trat  die  Freundin  ibm  entgegen. 

Hocb  und  b'ober  scbwebten  Beide 
Durcb  des  Himmels  Glanz  und  AYonnen, 

Sie,  aufblickend,  ungeblendet, 
Zu  der  Sonne  aller  Sonnen  ; 

Er,  die  Augen  hingewendet 
Nacb  der  Freundin  Angesicbte, 

Das,  verklart,  ihn  schauen  Hess 
Abglanz  von  dem  ew'gen  Licbte. 

Ein  em  gbttbcben  Gredicht 

Hat  er  alles  einverleibet, 
Mit  so  ew'gen  Feuerziigen, 

Wie  der  Blitz  in  Felsen  scbreibet. 

Ja  !  mit  Fug  wird  dieser  Sii  nger 
Als  der  Grottliche  verebret, 

Dante,  welebem  ird'scbe  Liebe 
Sicb  zu  bimmliscber  verklaret. 

UHLAND'S  DANTE. 
Teaxslated  by  Rev.  W.  W.  Skeat,  M.A.  (1864). 

Was  it  but  tbe  gate  of  Florence, 
Was't  tbe  gate  of  Paradise, 

Wbence,  upon  a  fair  May  morning, 
Poured  a  troop  in  festal  guise  ? 


POETIC  TEIBUTES  TO   DANTE.  341 

Children,  fliir  as  troops  of  angels, 

llichly  dight  with  garlands  gay, 
Hastened  tow'rd  the  vale  of  roses. 

There  to  join  in  dance  and  play. 

Dante,  who  nine  years  had  numbered, 

Stood  beneath  a  laurel's  shade  ; 
Straight  his  glance  discerned  an  angel 

In  the  loveliest  youthful  maid. 

Rustled  not  the  laurel's  branches 

When  the  zephyr  caught  the  grove  ? 
Ti'embled  not  young  Dante's  spirit. 

Breathed  on  by  the  breath  of  love  ? 

Yes  I  within  his  heart  that  instant 

Forth  the  fount  of  music  brake  ; 
Soon  in  canzonets  and  sonnets 

Tenderly  his  love  outspake. 

When  once  more  she  met  the  poet 

In  her  prime  of  maidenhood. 
Like  a  tree  that  raineth  blossoms, 

Firm  and  fair  his  glory  stood. 

See  !  from  out  the  gates  of  Florence 

Pours  once  more  a  num'rous  train  ; 
Slowly,  mournfully,  it  issues 

To  a  sad  and  plaintive  strain. 

'Xeath  a  pall  of  sable  velvet 

Which  a  silver  cross  doth  wear. 
Plucked  by  Death  in  bloom  of  beauty. 

Beatrice  forth  they  bear. 

Dante  in  his  chamber  rested 

Lonely,  still,  till  sunlight  failed. 
Heard  afar  the  death-bell  booming  ; 

Silently  his  face  he  veiled. 

Through  the  forest's  deepest  shadow 

Paced  the  noble  bard  alone  ; 
Like  the  death-bell's  distant  booming, 

Sounded  then  his  music's  tone. 


342  POETIC  TRIBUTES  TO  DANTE. 

But  within  tliat  dreary  desert 

Full  to  him  of  grief  and  fear, 
From  the  band  of  souls  departed 

Came  a  God-sent  messenger, 

AYho  his  steps  securely  guided 

Far  through  Hell's  remotest  gloom  ; 

Where  his  earthly  grief  was  silenced, 
Seeing  souls  fulfil  their  doom.  ^ 

Soon,  his  gloomy  path  pursuing, 

Came  he  to  the  blessed  light ; 
Then,  from  Heav'n's  wide-opened  portals 

Came  his  love,  to  greet  his  sight. 

Far  through  Heav'n's  delightful  regions 

Soared  on  high  the  favored  ones  ; 
She,  with  eyes  intent,  unblinded. 

Gazing  on  the  Sun  of  Suns  ;  ^ 

He,  with  eyes  aside  directed 
Tow'rds  his  loved  one's  countenance, 

Which,  all-glorious,  like  a  mirror, 
Shewed  him  the  Eternal's  glance. 

Shrined  in  an  immortal  poem 

Is  the  splendid  vision  shown, 
Written  with  such  fiery  traces 

As  the  lightning  writes  on  stone. 

Rightly  was  this  poet  honored 

With  the  title—"  the  Divine"— 
Dante,  who  could  earthly  passion 

To  celestial  love  refine. 

^  In  the  first  Canto  of  the  "  Inferno,"  Dante  describes  himself  as  lost  in  a 
dreary  forest  ;  where,  as  he  wandered  about  in  terror,  he  was  met  by  Virgil, 
the  "Grod-sent  messenger,"  who  guided  him  safely  through  the  realms  of 
Hell.     [Note  of  the  translator.] 

*  "  Beatrice  tutta  nelV  eterne  ruote     [the  heavens] 
Fissa  con  gli '  occhi  stava  ;  ed  io  in  lei 
Le  luci  Jisse,  di  lassii  remote. ' ' — Paradiso,  i.  64-670. 
''Her  eyes  fast  fixed  upon  th'  eternal  wheels, 
Beatrice  stood  unmoved  ;  and  I  with  ken 
Fixed  upon  her,  from  upward  gaze  removed." — 

Gary's  translation. 


POETIC  TRIBUTES  TO  DANTE.  343 

DANTE. 
By  Henry  Wadsworth  Longfellow. 
Tuscan,  that  wanderest  through  the  realms  of  gloom, 
With  thoughtful  face,  and  sad,  majestic  eyes, 
Stern  thoughts  and  awful  from  thy  soul  arise, 
Like  Farinata  from  his  fiery  tomb.  ^ 

Thy  sacred  song  is  like  the  ti-ump  of  doom ; 

Yet  in  thy  heart  what  human  sympathies, 

What  soft  compassion  glows,  as  in  the  skies 
Tlie  tender  stars  their  clouded  lamps  relume ! 

Methinks  I  see  thee  stand,  with  pallid  cheeks, 

By  Fra  Hilario  in  his  diocese, 
As  up  the  convent-walls,  in  golden  streaks, 

The  ascending  sunbeams  mark  the  day's  decrease  ; 
And,  as  he  asks  what  there  the  stranger  seeks, 

Thy  voice  along  the  cloister  whispers,  ' '  Peace ! ' ' 

Alfred  Tennyson. 
Tennyson  probably  alludes  to  Dante  in  the  first  two  stanzas 
of  his  " The  Poet:''— 

"The  poet  in  a  golden  clime  was  born, 
With  golden  stars  above  ; 
Dower' d  with  the  hate  of  hate,  the  scorn  of  scorn, 
The  love  of  love. 

He  saw  thro'  life  and  death,  thro'  good  and  ill. 

He  saw  through  his  own  soul. 
The  marvel  of  the  everlasting  will, 

An  open  scroll, 
Before  him  lay  "... 

At  the  sixth  centenary  of  Dante's  birth  (1865)  Tennyson  sent, 
at  the  request  of  the  Florentines,  the  following  lines : — 

"  King,  that  hast  reign' d  six  hundred  years,  and  grown 
In  power,  and  ever  growest !  Since  thine  own 
Fair  Florence,  honoring  thy  nativity — 
Thy  Florence,  now  the  crown  of  Italy, 
Hath  sought  the  tribute  of  a  verse  from  me, 
I,  wearing  but  the  garland  of  a  day. 
Cast  at  thy  feet  one  flower  that  fades  away. ' ' 

^  Comp.  Inf.  vi.  79  ;  x.  32  sqq.  Farinata  degli  Uberti  was  the  most  valiant 
leader  of  the  Ghibellines  in  Florence,  and  routed  the  Guelfs  at  the  battle  of 
Monte  Aperto  in  1260,  but  denied  the  immortality  of  the  soul  and  hence  was 
damned  as  a  heretic. 


344  POETIC  TRIBUTES  TO  DANTE. 

DANTE  IN  VERONA. 

By  Emanuel  Geibel. 

Gedichte,  Erste  Feriode.     Stuttgart,  1888,  111th  ed.,  p.  291. 

Geibel  wrote  also  a  sonnet  on  Dante :  ^'  Sobald  die  Nacht  mit 

dunklem  Fliigelpaar.^^     Neue  Gedichte,  Dritte  Periode  (21st  ed., 

1886,  p.  192). 

Einsam  durch  Verona's  Grassen  wandelt'einst  der  grosse  Dante, 
Jener  Florentiner  Dichter,  den  sein  Yaterland  verbannte. 

Da  vernalim  er,  wie  ein  Madchen,  das  ihn  sali  voriiberschreiten, 
Also  sprach  zur  jtingern  Sch wester,  welclie  sass  an  ihrer  Seiten : 

"Siehe,  das  ist  jener  Dante,  der  zur  Holl'liinabgestiegen, 
Merke  nur,  wie  Zorn  und  Schwermut  auf  der  dlistern  Stirn  ilim  liegen ! 

Denn  in  jener  Stadt  der  Qualen  musst'er  solcbe  Dinge  schauen, 
Dass  zu  lacheln  nimmer  wieder  er  vermag  vor  innerm  Grauen. ' ' 

Aber  Dante,  der  es  librte,  wandte  sich  und  bracli  sein  Schweigen  : 
"  Um  das  Lacheln  zu  verlernen,  braucbt's  nicbt,  dort  hinabzusteigen. 

Allen  Schmerz,  den  icb  gesungen,  all  die  Qualen,  Greu'l  und  Wundea 
Hab'ich  scbon  auf  dieser  Erden,  hab'ich  in  Florenz  gefunden." 


THE  DIVINA  COMMEDIA. 

GENERAL  ESTIMxiTE. 

Dante's  Divina  Commedia  is  one  of  those  rare  works  of  human 
genius  which  will  command  study  and  admiration  to  the  end  of 
time.  There  are  many  poems  which  interest  and  charm  a  much 
larger  number  of  readers,  but  there  is  none  which  combines  so 
many  attractions  for  the  man  of  letters,  the  philosopher,  the 
theologian,  and  the  historian.  It  is  a  poetic  encyclopaedia  of 
mediaeval  civilization,  learning  and  religion,  a  moral  universe  in 
song  by  the  loftiest  genius  of  that  age.  Hence  few  books  have 
been  so  often  edited,  commented  upon  by  scholars,  and  illustrated 
by  artists ;  and  few  books  have  been  like  this,  made  the  subject 
of  serious  and  long  continued  study  in  all  civilized  countries. 

The  Commedia^  it  is  true,  can  never  be  popular.  It  is  no 
easy  task  to  read  it  through.  It  requires  the  closest  attention 
and  the  aid  of  a  commentary.  Lord  Macaulay  says,  the  great 
majority  of  young  gentlemen  and  ladies  who  profess  to  know 
Italian,  "  could  as  soon  read  a  Babylonion  brick  as  a  canto  of 
Dante.''  Of  those  who  make  the  attempt,  few  get  through  the 
Inferno,  or  even  from  this  they  select  only  the  cantos  on  Fran- 
cesca  da  Rimini  and  the  Count  Ugolino.^  The  reason  lies  partly 
in  the  severe  solemnity,  partly  in  the  obscurity  of  the  poem,  its 
allegorical  imagery,  and  its  many  allusions  to  contemporary 
characters  and  events.  It  presupposes  a  considerable  knowledge 
of  classical  mythology,  scholastic  philosophy  and  theology,  and 
mediaeval  history.  It  can  only  be  understood  in  connection  with 
the  condition  of  Florence  and  Italy  during  the  thirteenth  and 
fourteenth  centuries,  and  with  the  great  conflict  between  the  Guelfs 
and  Ghibellines,  the  popes  and  emperors. 

But  the  more  the  poem  is  mastered  and  comprehended  in  the 

^Alfieri  affirmed,  at  the  beginning  of  the  nineteenth  century,  that  there 
were  then  not  thirty  persons  in  Italy  who  had  really  read  the  Commedia;  but 
the  number  of  readers,  editions  and  commentaries  has  since  been  steadily  in- 
creasing. 

345 


346  THE  DIVINA   COMMEDIA. 

light  of  its  age,  the  more  it  becomes  an  object  of  admiration. 
"What  a  fullness  of  intellectual  treasures,"  says  ^yitte,  who  him- 
self devoted  almost  a  lifetime  to  the  study  of  Dante,  "  must  that 
poet  have  to  dispense  who  excited  the  same  enthusiastic  love  in 
the  youthful  Schelling  and  the  octogenarian  Schlosser."  ^  The 
German  philosopher,  here  alluded  to,  who  was  gifted  with  poetic 
imagination  and  taste  as  well  as  speculativ^e  genius,  calls  Dante 
the  high  priest  in  the  Holy  of  holies  where  religion  and  poetry 
are  united.  ^ 

As  a  work  of  art,  the  Commedia  is  the  first  and  the  greatest 
classic  of  Italian  literature,  and  has  very  few  rivals  in  any  lan- 
guage. Longfellow  calls  it  "  the  mediaeval  miracle  of  song"; 
Tieck,  "  the  mystic,  unfathomable  song."  King  John  of  Saxony, 
who,  under  the  name  of  *  Philalethes,^  published  one  of  the  best 
translations  and  commentaries  of  the  Commediay  aptly  compares 
it  to  "  a  Gothic  cathedral  where  the  exaggerations  of  ornament 
may  sometimes  offend  our  more  refined  taste ;  while  the  sublime 
and  austere  impression  of  the  whole,  and  the  exquisite  finish  and 
variety  of  details,  fill  our  mind  with  wonder."  And  Thomas 
Carlyle  describes  it  as  "a  great  supernatural  world-cathedral 
piled  up  there,  stern,  solemn,  awful ;  Dante's  world  of  souls ! " 

The  Commedia  is  not  simply  a  poem  of  the  highest  order,  but 
a  philosophy  and  theology  as  well;  it  reflects  the  social,  intel- 
lectual, moral  and  political  conditions  of  the  Middle  Ages ;  it 
embraces  the  present  and  future  state  of  mankind ;  it  has  even 
a  prophetic  character,  as  a  voice  of  warning  and  comfort  for  all 
time.  Dante  wrote  in  the  assurance  of  a  prophetic  mission  similar 
to  that  of  Isaiah,  Jeremiah,  and  Daniel.  He  felt  it  his  impera- 
tive duty,  without  fear  or  favor  of  men,  at  the  risk  of  exile  and 
poverty,  to  tell  the  truth  and  nothing  but  the  truth,  to  popes 

^  * '  Welche  Fiille  von  geistigen  Schdtzen  muss  der  Didder  zu  hieten  haben,  in 
dessert  Lied  mit  gleicher  Vorliebe,  wie  der  achtundzwanzigjdhrige  Schelling,  so  der 
achtzigjdhrige  Schlosser  sichversenkt!'^ — Witte,  Dante-Forschungen  {Halle,  1869), 
I.  p.  221. 

2  In  the  essay  on  Dante  (1803)  quoted  in  the  Literature,  p.  332  :  "  /;» 
Allerheiligstcn,  ivo  Beligion  und  Poesie  vcrbunden,  steJit  Dante  als  Ilohcrpriesier 
und  wciht  die  game  moderne  Kunstfiir  ihre  Bestimmung  ein  ;  es  ist  die  Durch- 
dringung  der  Begebenheiten  der  ganzen  Zeit  dcs  Dichtcrs  mit  den  Ideen  der 
Religion,  Wissenschaft  it  nd  Poesie  in  dem  uberlegensten  Geiste  jencs  Jahrh  u  nderts. ' ' 


THE  DIVINA  COMMEDIA.  347 

and  emperors,  to  kings  and  nobles,  to  the  rich  and  the  poor. 
He  rebukes  the  evil-doers,  he  cheers  the  righteous,  he  paints  in 
the  strongest  colors  the  eternal  consequences  of  our  conduct  in 
this  life  of  probation  and  trial,  and  holds  up  the  prospects  of 
an  ideal  commonwealth  of  justice,  liberty  and  peace.  He  is  a 
prophet  of  evil  to  the  wicked,  and  a  prophet  of  glad  tidings  to 
the  righteous.  He  kindles  from  time  to  time  the  flame  of 
patriotism  among  his  countrymen,  and  keeps  alive  the  hope  and 
desire  of  a  regeneration  of  the  State  and  a  reformation  of  the 
Church. 

The  attempt  to  describe  the  regions  of  the  unseen  world  and 
to  assume  the  office  of  the  all-knowing  judge  of  the  living  and 
the  dead  in  the  distribution  of  eternal  rewards  and  eternal  pun- 
ishments, could  originate  only  either  in  the  brain  of  a  fool  or  a 
madman,  or  in  the  bold  imagination  of  a  poetic  genius,  under  the 
influence  of  a  secondary  inspiration.  Dante  has  shown  by  the 
execution  of  this  design  that  he  was  a  genius  of  the  highest  order, 
though  regarded  by  many  of  his  countrymen  as  fit  for  a  lunatic 
asylum  rather  than  an  office  of  public  trust  or  any  ordinary 
business  of  life. 

Milton,  who  of  all  poets  comes  nearest  to  Dante,  ventured  on 
a  poetic  description  of  Paradise  Lost  and  Paradise  Regained,  but 
abstained  from  peopling  it  with  other  than  Scriptural  characters. 
Emanuel  Swedenborg,  the  Seer  of  the  North,  who  claimed  the 
supernatural  gift  of  spiritual  vision  and  intercourse  with  the 
departed,  reports  his  conversations  with  men  of  diflerent  ages 
and  religions  in  Heaven  and  Hell,  but  these  conversations,  though 
far  superior  to  the  twaddle  and  gossip  of  modern  Spiritualism, 
are  prosy,  monotonous  and  tedious.  Dante,  without  claiming  a 
revelation,  fixed  the  eternal  destiny  of  eminent  men  and  women 
of  his  age  and  country  as  well  as  of  past  generations,  in  the 
name  of  impartial  justice  to  friend  and  foe:  condemning  the 
impenitent. sinner  to  hopeless  misery,  comforting  the  penitent 
believer  with  the  prospect  of  ultimate  deliverance,  and  crowning 
the  saints  with  the  reward  of  celestial  bliss. 


348  THE   DIVINA   COMMEDIA. 


THE  SOURCES  OF  THE  COMMEDIA.  i 

Nothing  falls  abruptly  from  heaven.  Dante  had  many  pre- 
decessors in  the  attempt  to  describe  the  invisible  world,  but  he 
surpassed  them  all. 

Homer  and  Yirgil  furnished  illustrious  precedents  among 
classical  authors  and  suggested  to  Dante  the  outlines  of  his 
Inferno.  They  divide  Hades  or  the  realm  of  the  departed  into 
Tartarus,  the  dark  abode  of  the  bad,  and  Elysium,  the  sunny 
fields  of  the  good,  but  know  no  intervening  Purgatory.  They 
represent  the  dead  as  shadowy  phantoms  fluttering  about  in  the 
air  under  an  empty  form. 

Homer,  in  the  eleventh  book  of  the  Odyssey,  describes  the 
visit  of  Ulysses  to  the  joyless  land  of  Hades,  where  he  con- 
versed with  the  Theban  seer  Tiresias,  and  with  his  own  mother, 
and  saw  the  shades  of  Agamemnon,  Achilles  and  many  heroes 
and   heroines   slain   in   battle   and   clad   in    bloody   armor.  ^ 

Virgil,  the  favorite  poet  and  guide  of  Dante,  to  whom  he  was 
much  more  indebted  for  material  than  to  Homer,  minutely 
describes,  in  the  sixth  book  of  the  jEneidy  the  descent  of  ^ueas, 
accompanied  by  the  Sibyl  of  Cumse,  to  the  infernal  regions 
where  he  learns  from  his  father  Anchises  his  fate  and  the  future 
of  the  world-conquering  Romans. 

Nor  should  Cicero's  Vision  of  Scipio  be  forgotten  among  the 
pre-Christian  antecedents  of  the  Commedia. 

The  Inferno  of  Dante  is  a  strange  commingling  of  heathen 
and  Christian  mythology.     He  invokes  Apollo  and  the  Muses 

^  Comp.  Ozanam  on  the  poetic  sources  of  the  Div.  Com.  appended  to  his 
Les  Poetcs  Franciscains  en  Italie  (Paris,  third  ed.  1859,  pp.  351-469  ;  torn  v. 
of  his  CEuvres  completes) ;  Rossetti,  Dante  and  His  Circle  (London,  1874)  ;  Aless. 
d'Ancona,  I  preeursori  di  Dante  (Florence,  1874)  ;  Labitte,  La  D.  Comedie 
avant  Dante  (Paris,  1842)  ;  Th.  Wright,  >S'^.  Patrick'' s  Purgatory,  an  essay  on 
the  Legends  of  Purgatory,  Hell  and  Paradise  current  during  the  lliddle  Ages 
(London,  1844).  Longfellow,  in  his  Illustrations  to  the  Inferno  (i.  381  sqq.), 
gives  several  visions  of  the  unseen  world,  beginning  with  the  11th  book  of 
the  Odyssey  and  ending  with  the  Anglo-Saxon  description  of  Paradise. 

2  Dante  had  a  very  limited  knowledge  of  Greek  and  of  Homer.  He  says 
[Conrito  I.  7),  that  Homer  was  not  yet  turned,  or  could  not  be  turned,  from 
Greek  into  Latin  {non  si  mutd  di  grcco  in  latino),  like  other  Greek  writers, 
because  translation  would  destroy  all  his  "sweetness  and  harmony." 


THE  DIVINA  COMMEDIA.  349 

to  aid  him  in  his  Christian  poem.i  jje  gives  room  to  heathen 
gods  and  demi-gods,  but  transforms  them  into  demons  (as  they 
are  represented  by  sculpture  in  the  Gothic  cathedrals).  He 
retains  Minos  as  judge  at  the  door,  and  Charon  as  boatman  over 
the  Stygian  lake,  and  associates  Centaurs  and  Furies  with  the 
agents  of  diabolical  torture.  But  he  puts  even  the  best  of  the 
heathen,  including  his  own  honored  Virgil  and  Aristotle,  into 
Hell,  with  two  singular  exceptions, — Cato  of  Utica,  who  keeps 
watch  at  Purgatory,  and  the  Emperor  Trajan,  who  was  believed 
to  have  been  saved  by  the  prayers  of  Pope  Gregory  I.  nearly 
five  hundred  years  after  his  death .^ 

The  Christian  religion  purified  and  intensified  the  belief  in 
the  immortality  of  the  soul,  gave  realness  to  the  future  life  by 
teaching  the  resurrection  of  the  body,  and  created  a  new  idea  of 
Heaven  as  an  abode  of  holiness  and  bliss  in  communion  with 
God  and  the  saints.  After  the  fourth  century  the  Christian 
eschatology  was  enriched  and  obscured  by  the  semi-heathenish 
conception  of  Purgatory  as  an  intervening  state  of  purification 
and  preparation  for  Heaven.  It  was  suggested  as  a  probability 
by  St.  Augustin,  and  taught  as  a  certainty  by  Pope  Gregory  I., 
and  gave  rise  to  many  crude  superstitions  which  haunted  the 
Middle  Ages,  and  which  to  this  day  disturb  the  peace  of  pious 
Roman  Catholics  in  the  hour  of  death.  This  good  but  credu- 
lous pope,  in  the  fourth  book  of  his  "  Dialogues "  (593),  tells 
incredible   tales   of  visions   of  departed   souls,   which   greatly 

i/;i/.  II.  7 ;  Furg.  i.  8,  9  ;  Par.  i.  13  ;  ii.  8,  9. 

2  Dante  refers  twice  to  these  prayers  :  Purg.^  x.  75  ;  and  (without  naming 
Gregory)  Par.,  XX.  109-111.  He  followed  a  curious  legend  current  in  the 
Middle  Ages,  as  told  by  Paulus  Diaconus  in  his  Life  of  Gregory,  by  Brunette 
Latini,  in  the  Fiore  di  Filosofi  attributed  to  him,  and  also  in  the  famous  Legenda 
Aurea,  and  other  books.  It  is  this :  Trajan,  though  he  persecuted  the  Christians, 
was  reputed  a  just  emperor.  About  five  hundred  years  after  his  death, 
Pope  Gregory,  on  hearing  of  his  justice  and  seeing  his  statue,  had  him  dis- 
interred, and  prayed  God  with  tears  to  take  the  soul  of  this  man  out  of  Hell 
and  put  him  into  Heaven.  The  prayer  was  heard,  and  Trajan  relieved  ;  but 
an  angel  told  Gregory  never  to  make  such  a  prayer  again  :  and  God  laid  upon 
him  a  penance,  either  to  spend  two  days  in  Purgatory,  or  to  be  always  ill 
with  fever  and  side-ache  {male  di  fianco).  St.  Gregory  chose  the  latter  as 
the  lesser  punishment. 


350  THE   DIVINA   COMMEDIA. 

strengthened  the  mediaeval  belief  in  Purgatory.^  Dante  men- 
tions Gregory  in  Paradise,  but  only  as  differing  from  St.  Dio- 
nysius  in  the  arrangement  of  the  celestial  hierarchy.^  He  ought 
to  have  placed  him  in  the  fourth  Heaven,  among  the  great  doc- 
tors of  the  Church.^ 

The  Acts  of  the  female  (probably  Montanist)  martyrs  Perpetua 
and  Felicitas  (quoted  by  Tertullian  and  Augustin),  and  still 
more  the  monastic  literature  of  the  Middle  Ages  and  the  Lives 
of  Saints,  abound  in  marvelous  legends,  visions  and  revelations 
of  the  future  world.  Such  visions  are  reported  by  the  venerable 
Bede(d.  735),  St.  Boniface  (d.  755),  Wettinof  Peichenau  (824), 
Prudentius  of  Troyes  (839),  Charles  the  Bald  (875),  in  the  Life 
of  St.  Brandan  (eleventh  century),  in  St.  Patrick's  Purgatory 
(twelfth  century,  by  a  monk,  Owen),  by  Elizabeth  of  Schonau 
(d.  1162),  St.  Hildegardis  (d.  1197),  Joachim  of  Fiore  (d. 
1202),  St.  Matilda  or  Mechtildis  (d.  1310).  The  Vision  of 
Frate  Alberico  of  Monte  Cassino  in  the  twelfth  century  con- 
tains a  description  of  Hell,  Purgatory  and  Paradise  with  Seven 
Heavens.  ^'  It  is,"  says  Longfellow,  "  for  the  most  part  a  tedious 
tale,  and  bears  evident  marks  of  having  been  written  by  a  friar 
of  some  monastery,  when  the  afternoon  sun  was  shining  into  his 
sleepy  eyes."  Dante's  own  teacher,  Brunetto  Latini,  describes, 
in  his  TesorettOj  how  he  was  lost  in  a  forest  and  then  led  by 
Ptolemy  the  astronomer  to  the  vision  of  the  unseen  world,  and 
the  punishments  of  the  wicked.  The  Golden  Legend  of  Jacopo 
da  Yoragine,  archbishop  of  Genoa  (d.  about  1298),  teems  with 
supernatural  marvels  of  saints  ;  it  was  the  most  popular  book  in 
the  Middle  Ages,  and  passed  through  innumerable  editions.^ 

The  whole  poetry  of  the  Middle  Ages,  and  the  arts  of  painting 

^  Dialogorum  libri  iv.  de  vita  et  miracuUs  patrum  Italicorum,  et  de  xternitate 
animse.  King  Alfred  ordered  an  Anglo-Saxon  translation.  Gregory  acknowl- 
edged that  he  knew  these  ghost  stories  only  from  hearsay,  and  defends  his 
recording  them  by  the  example  of  Mark  and  Luke,  who  reported  the  Gospel 
second-hand  on  the  authority  of  eye-witnesses. 

2  Far.,  XVIII.  133.  ^  Par. ,  x. 

^  See  an  interesting  article  on  the  literary  history  of  the  Aurea  Legcnda,  by 
Professor  E.  C.  Richardson,  in  the  first  volume  of  the  ' '  Papers  of  the  Ameri- 
can Society  of  Church  History,"  N.  York,  1889,  pp.  237-248. 


THE  DIVINA  COMMEDIA.  351 

and  sculpture  delighted  in  spectacles  of  the  future  world.  Labitte 
states,  as  the  result  of  his  investigations,  that  the  architecture 
of  France  alone — the  frescoes,  windows  and  porches  of  the 
cathedrals  of  Notre  Dame,  Chartres,  Auxerre,  etc. — supplies 
more  than  fifty  illustrations  of  the  Commedla  by  way  of  antici- 
pation. The  most  popular  plays  in  Europe  were  the  miracle 
plays  or  mysteries,  which  enacted  the  descent  into  Hell  and  the 
scenes  of  the  last  Judgment.  The  theatres  represented  by  three 
stories  the  three  regions  of  the  invisible  world. 

One  of  the  grandest,  but  most  disastrous,  of  these  spectacles 
took  place  in  Florence  during  Dante's  lifetime,  May,  1304,  and 
is  described  by  Villani  in  his  Chronicle.  The  infernal  regions 
were  represented  on  one  of  the  Arno  bridges  by  misshapen  men, 
hideous  demons,  divers  torments,  groans  and  cries,  and  other 
horrible  scenes  to  satisfy  the  morbid  curiosity  of  the  multitude 
who  crowded  the  banks  of  the  river  and  the  boats  and  wooden 
rafts,  when  suddenly  the  bridge  fell  with  its  weight,  and  many 
people  were  drowned. 

The  only  survival  of  these  mediaeval  miracle  plays  is  the 
Passion  Play  of  Oberammergau  in  the  highlands  of  Bavaria,  which 
is  enacted  once  in  every  ten  years,  but  is  singularly  free  from 
superstitious  admixtures  and  preternatural  horrors,  and  confined 
within  the  limits  of  the  biblical  narrative. 

The  mediaeval  faith  in  a  future  life  was  strong,  and  lively,  but 
sensuous,  materialistic  and  superstitious.  Everybody  held  the 
Ptolemaic  and  geocentric  system  of  the  universe,  and  believed 
in  a  material  hell  beneath  the  earth,  a  material  heaven  above  the 
sky,  and  an  intervening  material  purgatory  or  transition  place 
and  state  for  the  discipline  of  those  who  by  faith  in  Christ  have 
escaped  hell,  but  are  not  yet  good  enough  for  heaven.  The 
reality  of  these  subterrestrial  and  celestial  regions  was  as  little 
doubted  as  the  reality  of  our  terrestrial  existence.  There  were, 
of  course,  skeptics  who  denied  or  doubted  even  the  immortality 
of  the  soul,  but  they  were  rare,  and  abhorred  or  pitied  as  mad- 
men. Dante  says  in  his  Convito^ — *^  of  all  idiocies,  that  is  the 
most  stupid,  most  vile,  and  most  damnable^  which  holds  that 

1  Bk.  II.  ch.  9  (Fraticelli,  p.  139,  Miss  Hillard's  translation,  p.  90). 

^  ''  Intra  tutte  le  hestialitadi  quella  e  sioJtissima^  vilissima  e  dannosissiina,^^  etc 


352  THE  DIVINA  COMMEDIA. 

after  this  life  there  is  none  other ;  because  if  we  look  through 
all  the  writings  of  the  philosophers,  as  well  as  of  the  other  wise 
authors,  they  all  agree  in  this,  that  there  is  some  part  of  us 
which  is  immortal."  He  then  refers  for  proof  to  Aristotle, 
Cicero,  the  Gentile  poets,  the  Jews,  the  Saracens,  or  any  others 
who  live  at  all  according  to  law,  to  our  aspiration  after  immor- 
tality, to  the  experience  in  the  divinations  of  our  dreams,  and  to 
"the  most  veracious  teaching  of  Christ,  who  is  the  Way,  the 
Truth,  and  the  Light  (Life).  This  teaching  gives  us  more  certainty 
than  all  other  reasons.  .  .  .  This  should  be  the  most  potent  of 
arguments ;  and  thus  I  believe,  assert  and  am  certain,  that  after 
this  I  shall  pass  to  another,  better  life  where  that  glorious  lady 
[Beatrice]  lives,  of  whom  my  soul  was  enamored." 

Thus  Dante  found  and  shared  the  general  belief  in  the  three 
regions  and  states  of  the  future  world.  But  he  mastered  the 
crude  material  of  tradition  for  his  supernatural  journey  with  the 
independence  of  genius,  and  reduced  the  legendary  chaos  to 
order  and  beauty.  He  threw  all  his  predecessors  into  the  shade, 
and  has  not  been  surpassed  or  equaled  by  any  of  his  successors. 

NAME  OF  THE  POEM. 
Dante  called  his  poem  a  Comedy  in  distinction  from  a  Tragedy, 
for  two  reasons :  because  it  begins  horribly  with  Hell  and  ends 
happily  in  Paradise,  and  because  it  is  written  in  vulgar  or  popu- 
lar language.^     An  admiring  posterity  long  after  his  death  added 

^  In  the  Letter  to  Can  Grande,  ch,  10,  in  which  he  dedicates  to  him  the 
Paradiso,  he  says  :  "  Lihri  titulus  est :  Incipit  Comadia  Dantis  Alagherii,  Floren- 
tini  natione,  non  morihus. ' '  He  derives  comedy  from  /cw//^,  villa,  and  cJJ^,  cantus, 
so  as  to  mean  villanus  cantiis,  a  village  poem,  and  tragedy  from  rpdyog  and  (p(h'/, 
cantus  hircinus,  a  goat  song,  and  distinguishes  comedy  from  tragedy  in  matter 
and  style.  "  Comadia  inchoat  asperitatem  aliciijus  rei,  sed  ejus  materia  prospers 
terminatur,  ut  patet  per  Terentium  in  suis  Comosdiis  .  .  .  Similiter  diffcrunt  in 
modo  loquendi:  elate  et  sublime  tragcedia,  comoedia  vero  remisse  et  humiliter,  sicut 
vult  Horatius  in  sua  Poetica  .  .  .  Et  per  lioc  patet,  quod  Comadia  dicitur  prxsens 
opus.  Nam  si  ad  materiam  rcspiciamus,  aprincipio  horrihilis  etfwtida  est,  quia 
Infernus;  in  fine  prospera,  desiderahilis  et  grata,  quia  Paradisus.  Si  ad  modum 
loquendi,  remissus  est  modus  et  kumilis,  quia  loquutio  vulgaris,  in  qua  et  mulier- 
cnlic  communicant.''^  He  calls  his  poem  a  "Comedy  "  in  Inf.  xvi.  128  ;  xxxi. 
2  {la  mia  commedia).  He  does  not  seem  to  know  the  other  derivation  of 
comedy,  from  kcjjuo^,  merry-making,  revelery  (a  word  which  occurs  several 
times  in  the  Greek  Testament). 


THE   DIVINA   COMMEDIA.  353 

the  epithet  divine,  and  bestowed  it  also  upon  the  poet.^  He 
himself  calls  it  a  sacred  poem  that  made  both  heaven  and  earth 
co-partners  in  its  toil.^ 

The  ordinary  meaning  of  Comedy  does  not  apply  at  all  to  such 
a  solemn  and  serious  poem.^  The  Inferno  is  rather  an  awful 
tragedy;  the  Purgatory  is  filled  with  penitential  sorrow,  irradiated 
by  the  hope  of  final  deliverance;  the  Paradiso  is  joyful  indeed, 
but  far  above  earthly  felicity.  The  Avhole  poem  has  lyric  epi- 
sodes, epic  and  dramatic  features,  and  a  didactic  aim.  It  may 
be  called  an  allegorico-didactic  epos  of  the  religious  history  of  the 
world.  But  it  cannot  be  strictly  ranked  with  lyric,  or  epic,  or 
dramatic,  or  didactic  poetry,  any  more  than  the  Book  of  Job. 
It  stands  by  itself  without  a  parallel.  In  the  judgment  of 
Schelling,  it  is  an  "organic  mixture'^  of  all  forms  of  poetry, 
"an  absolute  individuality,  comparable  with  itself  alone,  and 
with  nothing  else.  ...  It  is  not  plastic,  not  picturesque,  not 
musical,  but  all  of  these  at  once  and  in  accordant  harmony.  It 
is  not  dramatic,  not  epic,  not  lyric,  but  a  peculiar,  unique,  and 
unexampled  mingling  of  all  these."^ 

^  Scartazzini  says  that  the  epithet  occurs  first  in  Dolce's  edition,  Venice, 
1555,  but  that  Landino  had  previously  called  the  poet  divine  in  the  edition  of 
1481. 

^  Par  ad.,  XXY.  1  sq. 

"  Se  mai  confinga  die  il  poema  sacro, 
Al  quale  ha posto  mano  e  cielo  e  terra.^' 

3  Macaulay  (in  his  essay  on  Milton) :  "  In  every  line  of  the  Di^ine  Comedy 
we  discern  the  asperity  which  is  produced  by  pride  struggling  with  misery. 
There  is  perhaps  no  work  in  the  world  so  deeply  and  uniformly  sorrowful. 
The  melancholy  of  Dante  was  no  fantastic  caprice.  .  .  It  was  from  within.  .  . 
His  mind  was,  in  the  noble  language  of  the  Hebrew  poet,  '  a  land  of  dark- 
ness, as  darkness  itself,  and  where  the  light  was  as  darkness. '  The  gloom 
of  his  character  discolors  all  the  passions  of  men,  and  all  the  face  of  nature, 
and  tinges  with  its  own  livid  hue  the  flowers  of  Paradise,  and  the  glories  of 
the  eternal  throne. ' ' 

*  ^^ Ein  absolutes  Indiiiduum,  nicJits  anderem  und  nur  sich  selbst  vergleichhar.''^ 
Schelling's  essay  on  Dante  /?^  pJdlosophiscJier  Beziehung,  first  published  in  1803, 
and  in  his  collected  Works,  vol.  Y.  152  sqq. 
23 


354  THE  DIYIXA  COMMEDIA. 


TIME  OF  COMPOSITION. 
The  Commedia  is  the  life-work  of  Dante,  conceived  in  his 
early  love  for  Beatrice,  composed  during  the  twenty  years  of  his 
exile,  and  completed  shortly  before  his  death.  It  was  begun  in 
the  year  1300,  when  he  had  reached  the  meridian  of  life,^  or 
finished  the  first  half  of  the  course  of  seventy  years  which  the 
Psalmist  of  old  sets  as  the  normal  limit  to  our  mortal  life. 

' '  The  days  of  our  years  are  three  score  years  and  ten, 
Or  even  by  reason  of  strength  four  score  years  ; 
Yet  is  their  pride  but  labor  and  sorrow  ; 
For  it  is  soon  gone,  and  we  fly  away. ' ' 

The  year  1300  is  memorable  in  church  history  for  the  first 
papal  jubilee,  when  two  millions  of  Christian  pilgrims  visited 
Rome  to  offer  their  countless  oblations  to  St.  Peter,  and  to  receive 
in  return  absolution  from  his  successor,  Boniface  VIII.^  It  was 
a  gigantic  scheme  for  the  increase  of  the  papal  power  and  wealth, 
to  be  repeated  each  hundredth  year  thereafter,  and  led  in  its 
ultimate  consequences  to  the  Protestant  Reformation  which 
began  with  Luther's  Theses  against  the  shameful  traffic  in 
indulgences  for  the  rebuilding  of  St.  Peter's.  Dante  may  him- 
self have  been  one  of  the  pilgrims.^  He  alludes  twice  to  the 
jubilee,  but  without  approval.^  He  abhorred  Boniface  YIII. 
for  his  avarice  and  simony,  and  puts  into  the  mouth  of  St.  Peter 
a  protest  against  being  made 

^  Inf.  I,  1.  "  iVeZ  mezzo  del  cammin  di  nostra  lita,^^  etc.  He  was  born  in 
1265. 

2  Giovanni  Villani,  one  of  the  Florentine  pilgrims,  says  {Chronica,  viii.  36) 
that  throughout  the  year  there  were  in  Rome,  besides  the  Roman  population, 
200,000  pilgrims,  not  counting  those  who  were  on  the  way  going  and  return- 
ing. G.  Ventura,  the  chronicler  of  Asti,  reports  the  total  number  of  pilgrims 
as  no  less  than  two  millions.  The  oblations  exceed  all  calculation.  Two 
priests  stood  with  rakes  in  their  hands,  sweeping  the  gold  from  the  altar 
of  St.  Peter's  ;  and  this  immense  treasure  was  at  the  irresponsible  disposal 
of  the  pope. 

^  As  Ozanam  conjectiires  (/.  c,  p.  360),  though  without  evidence. 

^  Inf.,  XVIII.  29  sqq.;  Furg.,  II.  98. 


TPIE  DIVIXA   COMMEDIA.  355 

"The figure  of  a  seal 
To  privileges  venal  and  mendacious, 
Whereat  I  often  redden  and  flash  with  fire. ' '  ^ 

The  Inferno  was  probably  completed  in  substance  about  1308, ^ 
the  Purgatorio  about  1318,  the  Paradiso  in  1321.  But  the 
chronology  is  not  certain.  He  may  Jiave  worked  at  different 
])arts,  revised  the  manuscript,  and  inserted  allusions  to  facts 
which  had  occurred  in  the  meantime.^ 

Boccaccio  tells  the  story  that  the  first  seven  cantos  of  the 
Inferno  were  written  at  Florence  before  the  banishment,  then  lost 
and  recovered,  and  that  the  last  thirteen  cantos  of  the  Paradiso 
were  found  eight  months  after  Dante's  death,  in  a  hiding-place 
in  his  bed-room,  thanks  to  a  marvelous  dream,  in  which  Dante 
appeared  to  his  son  Jacopo  and  revealed  to  him  the  place.  This 
implies  that  those  cantos  were  not  published  before  his  death. 

Goethe's  Faud  furnishes  a  modern  parallel  of  a  poem  on  which 
the  author  labored  for  many  years.  He  conceived  the  idea  of 
Faud  in  his  youth,  1769,  composed  at  different  times  portions 
which  interested  him  most,  and  published  them  from  1790  to 
1808,  when  the  First  Part  appeared  complete  under  the  title  Faust, 
eiiie  Tragodie.  The  Second  Part  he  took  in  hand  in  August,  1824, 
at  the  age  of  seventy-five  and  completed  it  in  August,  1831, 
when  he  sealed  it  up  and  directed  that  it  should  not  be  published 
till  after  his  death.  This  ^'tragedy  of  the  modern  age,"  then, 
covers  the  youth,  manhood,  and  extreme  old  age  of  the  poet. 

^  Par.^  XXVII.  52-55.     In  Plumptre's  translation: 

"Not  that  I  should,  engraved  on  seal,  give  right 
To  venal  and  corrupt  monopolies, 
"Which  make  me  blush  and  kindle  at  the  sight." 

The  whole  indignant  invective  of  St.  Peter  against  the  corruption  of  his 
successors  (ver.  19  sqq.  and  QQ  sqq.)  applies  primarily  to  Boniface  VIII.,  or  to 
Rome  in  1300,  but  as  well  also  to  John  XXII.,  or  to  the  Papal  court  at 
Avignon  in  1320. 

^  Scartazzini  thinks  that  the  composition  of  the  Inferno  was  not  begun  till 
after  the  death  of  Henry  YII.  (1313),  but  this  is  contradicted  by  Dante's  own 
statement  {Inf.  i.  1),  and  by  Boccacio's  account  of  the  composition  of  the 
first  seven  cantos  in  Florence  before  the  banishment. 

^  For  illustration  I  may  refer  to  his  translator  Gary,  who  informs  us  in  his 
preface  that  he  began  the  translation  of  the  Purgatorio  and  the  Paradiso  long 
before  the  translation  of  the  Inferno. 


356  THE  DIVINA  COMMEDIA. 

DURATION  OF  THE  VISION,  i 

Dante  presents  his  poem  in  the  form  of  a  spiritual  journey  or 
vision.  He  began  it  in  the  year  1300,  on  Good  Friday,  which 
commemorates  the  Crucifixion  of  our  Lord.^  He  spent  two 
days  (Friday  and  Saturday)  in  Hell,  as  long  as  Christ  remained 
in  the  spirit  world  to  redeem  the  waiting  saints  of  the  old  dispen- 
sation, and  to  transfer  them  to  Paradise.^  On  Easter  morn- 
ing (giorno  di  Pasqua)  he  again  rises  to  the  light.  He  needs  one 
whole  day  and  night  for  his  subterranean  journey  from  Hell 
to  the  foot  of  Purgatory,  on  the  other  hemisphere.  In  four  days 
of  toiling,  from  Monday  till  Thursday  of  the  Easter  week,  he 
ascends  to  the  top  of  the  mountain  of  Purgatory.  Then  he  flies 
through  Purgatory  in  a  day,^  or,  according  to  another  view,  in 
three  days ;  namely,  Friday,  Saturday  and  Sunday,  so  that  the 
whole  action  would  occupy  ten  days.^ 

^  On  the  dates  of  the  Commedia,  see  Kannegiesser's  translation,  and  E. 
Moore,  the  Time-Ecferences  in  the  Div.  Com.  and  their  hearing  on  the  assumed 
date  and  duration  of  the  Vision.  London,  1887.  Unfortunately,  I  could  not 
procure  this  book. 

2  Inf.  XXI.,  112-114,  where  Virgil  says  to  Dante  : — 
' '  Yesterday,  five  hours  later  than  this  hour, 

One  thousand  and  two  hundred  sixty -six 

Years  were  complete,  that  here  the  way  was  broken." 

At  the  close  of  Canto  xx. ,  the  time  is  indicated  as  being  an  hour  after 
sunrise.  Five  hours  later  would  be  noon,  or  the  sixth  hour  of  the  Crucifix- 
ion (Luke  23  :  44).  Add  to  the  1266  years  the  34  years  of  Christ's  life  on 
earth,  and  we  get  the  year  1300,  when  Dante  began  his  pilgrimage.  The 
break  or  rent  in  the  work  alluded  to  was  caused  by  the  earthquake  at  the 
time  of  the  Crucifixion. 

2  He  combines  for  this  purpose,  with  Thomas  Aquinas,  the  two  passages 
Luke  23  :  43  and  1  Pet.  3  :  19. 

'^According  to  Blanc,  and  Butler,  who  says  {Ihe  Paradise  of  Dante.,  p. 
XIV. )  :  "  The  time  occupied  in  the  journey  through  the  different  Heavens  is 
twenty-four  hours." 

^  So  Fraticelli  {La  Divina  Com.,  p.  723)  :  *'//  giorno  di  venerdl  e  quelJo  di 
sahato  {sieome  rilcvasi  dal  canto  xxvil.,  79-87)  gV  impiega  ncl  trajmssare  i  nove 
cieli  mobili ;  e  ncl  giorno  di  domenica,  otiava  di  Pasqua,  salealV  cmpireo.  Ecos\ 
in  tutto  Vazione  del  Poema  dura  died  giorni.''''  Davidson  (in  his  translation  of 
Scartazzini's  Handbook  to  D.,  p.  312)  adopts  the  same  view  on  the  basis  of 


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THE  DIVINA  COMMEDIA.  357 


DANTE'S  COSMOLOGY.  ^ 

DaDte  did  not  rise  above  the  geography  and  astronomy  of  his 
age,  but  took  poetic  liberties  in  detail.  His  Commedla  is 
based  upon  the  Ptolemaic  system,  which  prevailed  till  the  middle 
of  the  sixteenth  century,  when  it  was  gradually  supplanted  by 
the  Copernican  system. 

The  geography  of  the  church  in  the  Middle  Ages  did  not 
extend  much  beyond  the  old  Orbis  JRomanus,  that  is,  those  por- 
tions of  three  continents  which  are  washed  by  the  waters  of  the 
Mediterranean.  Eastern  Asia  (except  East  India),  Southern 
Africa  and  Northern  Europe  were  terrce  incognitce,  lying  beyond 
the  boundaries  of  civilization.  America  and  Australia  were  not 
yet  discovered.  The  earth  was  divided  into  two  hemispheres, 
the  eastern  hemisphere  of  the  inhabited  land  with  Jerusalem 
as  its  centre,  and  the  western  hemisphere  of  water.  Colum- 
bus undertook  his  voyage  across  the  Atlantic  in  the  hope  of 
finding  a  western  passage  to  East  India,  and  died  in  the  belief 
that  he  had  found  it  when  he  discovered  the  "  West  Indies  '^  in 
1492. 

The  mediaeval  cosmology  was  geocentric.  It  regarded  the 
earth  as  the  immovable  centre  of  the  universe.  It  maximized 
our  little  globe,  and  made  sun,  moon  and  stars  revolve  around 
it  as  obedient  servants,  to  give  it  light  by  day  and  by  night.  It 
was  moreover,  mixed  up  with  astrology  and  the  superstitious 
belief  of  the  mysterious  influence  of  the  celestial  bodies  upon  the 
birth  and  fate  of  men.     Dante  was  full  of  it. 

Far.,  XXVII.,  79-87,  but  I  confess  I  cannot  find  there  no  more  than  that  Dante 
had  been  then  six  hours  {dal  mezzo  al  fine)  in  the  Heaven  of  the  Fixed  Stars. 
Butler  (p.  349)  suggests  the  conjectural  reading  :  "  Che  va  (for /a)  dal  mezzo  al 
fin  del  (for  il)  primo  clima.^' 

^  See  especially  Witte,  Daniels  Weltgehdude  in  "Jahrbuch  der  deutschen 
Dante-Gesellschaft "  (1867),  vol.  i.,  73-93  ;  his  Dante-Forschungen  (1879),  vol. 
II.,  161-182  ;  and  the  introduction  to  his  German  translation  of  the  Commedia 
(1865  and  1876).  Also  Philalethes,  Ucber  Kosmolor/ie  und  Kosmogenie  nach 
den  Ansichten  der  Scholastiker  in  Dante\s  Zeit,  a  dissertation  in  his  translation 
of  the  first  Canto  of  Paradise  (pp.  11-19).  Maria  Francesca  Rossetti,  A 
Shadow  of  Dante  (1871),  pp.  9-13.  Several  editions  of  the  Commedia,  and  the 
work  of  M.  F.  Rossetti  give  illustrations  of  Dante's  Universe,  which  are  very 
helpful. 


358  THE  DIYINA  COMMEDIA. 

The  Ptolemaic  system  has  lost  all  scientific  value,  but  it 
retains  its  historical  interest,  and  a  certain  practical  necessity 
for  our  daily  vision  of  sunrise  and  sunset.  It  is  less  grand,  but 
more  definite,  phenomenal,  and,  we  may  say,  more  poetic  than  the 
Copernican  system. 

Dante  locates  Hell  beneath  the  surface  of  the  land  hemisphere 
and  extends  it  down  to  the  centre  of  the  earth  at  the  oj)posite 
end  of  Jerusalem.  He  gives  it  the  shape  of  a  funnel  or  inverted 
cone,  which  ends  in  a  narrow  pit  for  the  traitors,  where  Satan 
is  stuck  in  ice.  According  to  the  data  given  by  the  poet,  the 
dimensions  of  Hell  would  be  four  thousand  miles  in  depth,  and 
as  many  in  breadth  at  its  upper  circumference.  It  is  preceded 
by  a  vestibule.  The  entrance  is  beneath  the  forest  at  the 
"  Fauces  Averni,^^  near  Cumse,  on  the  coast  of  Campania,  where 
Virgil  places  the  entrance  to  Hades.  Dante  divides  the  infernal 
amphitheatre  into  three  divisions,  separated  from  each  other  by 
great  spaces.  Each  division  is  subdivided  into  three  concentric 
circles,  corresponding  to  the  several  classes  of  sinners  and  the 
degrees  of  guilt.  As  they  become  narrower,  the  punishment 
increases. 

Purgatory  is  located  in  the  water  hemisphere  opposite  Mount 
Sion  and  distant  from  it  by  the  whole  diameter  of  the  globe, 
that  is,  somewhere  near  the  South  Sea  Islands.  Dante  repre- 
sents it  as  a  vast  conical  mountain  rising  steep  and  high  from 
the  waters  of  the  Southern  ocean .^  He  surrounds  the  mountain 
with  seven  terraces  for  the  punishment  and  expiation  of  the 
seven  deadly  sins.  As  sin  and  punishment  increase  in  a  descend- 
ing line  in  Hell,  so,  on  the  contrary,  sin  and  punishment  de- 
crease in  an  ascending  line  in  Purgatory.  Rough  stairways,  cut 
into  the  rock,  lead  from  terrace  to  terrace.  On  the  summit  is 
the  table  land  of  the  garden  of  Eden  or  the  terrestrial  Paradise, 
which  must  not  be  confounded  with  the  celestial  Paradise. 
Human  history  began  in  the  innocence  of  the  terrestrial  Para- 
dise ;  to  it  man  is  led  back  by  penitence  and  purification  till  he 
is  fit  for  the  holiness  and  bliss  of  the  celestial  Paradise. 

The  fall  of  Lucifer,  the  archrebel,  from  heaven  convulsed 
and  perverted  the  original  world  which  God  had  made.  He 
^  "  Tlie  mount  that  rises  highest  o'er  the  wave."     {Par.  xxvi.,  139.) 


THE  DIVIXA  COMMEDIA.  359 

struck  the  earth  with  such  violence  as  to  open  a  chasm  clear 
through  the  centre  and  to  throw  up  the  Mount  of  Purgatory  on 
the  opposite  side  of  the  earth. ^  The  Inferno  is  the  eternal 
prison  for  the  impenitent  and  lost ;  Purgatory  is  the  temporary 
prison  or  penitentiary  for  penitent  sinners  and  will  be  empty  on 
the  day  of  judgment.  Paradise  is  the  eternal  home  of  holy 
angels  and  men.  Dante  reaches  it,  under  the  guidance  of  Bea- 
trice, by  flight  from  the  top  of  Mount  Purgatory,  where  the  law 
of  gravity  has  an  end. 

Paradise  consists  of  nine  heavens  and  the  Empyrean.  The 
nine  heavens  correspond  to  the  nine  circles  of  Hell  and  of  Pur- 
gatory. The  first  seven  heavens  revolve  around  the  earth  as 
the  immovable  centre  of  the  universe  and  are  called  after  the 
then  known  planets :  Moon,  Mercury,  Venus,  Sun  (which  was 
likewise  regarded  as  a  planet),  Mars,  Jupiter,  Saturn.  Each  is 
supposed  to  be  inhabited.  Above  them  is  the  eighth  heaven  or 
the  heaven  of  the  Fixed  Stars.  The  ninth  heaven  is  the  crys- 
talline heaven  or  the  Primum  Mobile,  which  is  the  most  rapid 
in  motion,  keeps  the  eight  lower  heavens  in  perpetual  motion 
and  is  the  root  of  time  and  change  throughout  creation.  With- 
out and  beyond  the  Primum  Mobile  is  the  tenth  heaven  or  the 
Empyrean,  v/hich  contains  the  universe,  is  timeless,  spaceless  and 
motionless,  the  special  abode  of  God  and  the  eternal  home  of 
his  saints.  It  is  arranged  in  the  form  of  a  rose  around  a  sea  of 
light.  All  the  blessed  dwell  in  the  Empyrean,  but  they  appear 
to  the  poet  in  the  different  heavens  according  to  the  degrees  of 
their  merit  and  happiness. 

The  cosmology  of  Dante  is  complicated  with  astrology  inher- 
ited from  heathen  times,  and  with  the  theory  of  a  celestial  hier- 
archy which  was  developed  in  the  mystical  writings  of  pseudo- 
Dionysius,  the  Areopagite,  and  excited  great  influence  on  the 
scholastic  theology  of  the  Middle  Ages;^  nine  angelic  orders 
are  divided  into  three  hierarchies  :  the  Seraphim,  Cherubim  and 
Thrones ;  the  Dominions,  Virtues  and  Powers ;  the  Principali- 
ties, Archangels  and  Angels.    They  move  the  nine  Heavens  and 

^  Inf.,  XXXIV.,  121  sqcx. 

2  Ou  the  pseudo-Dionysian  Ti-ritings,  see  Schaflf,  Church  History,  vol.  iv., 
589-600. 


860  THE  DIYIXA  COMMEDIA. 

are  themselves  unmoved.  They  receive  power  from  the  Empy- 
rean above  and  stamp  it  like  a  seal  upon  the  splieres  below. 

Dante,  in  accordance  with  Thomas  Aquinas,  placed  the  creation 
of  the  Angels  on  the  first  day,  and  the  fall  of  Lucifer  and  the  rebel 
Angels  within  the  twenty  minutes  succeeding.  The  fall  of  man 
must  have  taken  place  after  the  upheaval  of  Paradise  which  was 
caused  by  the  fall  of  Lucifer. 

The  localities  and  sceneries  of  the  future  world  are  measured 
by  Dante  with  mathematical  precision,  and  described  with  the 
genius  of  an  architect  and  painter.  Everything  is  definite  and 
visible.  He  furnishes  the  richest  material  for  painters.  In  this 
respect  the  Comedy  strikingly  contrasts  with  the  vagueness  and 
indefiniteness  of  Milton^s  Paradise  Lost,  which  Ruskin  has  ad- 
mirably described.^ 

Even  the  departed  souls  assume  a  clear,  definite  shape.  They 
are  not  nebulous  shades,  but  clothed  with  a  refined  corporality 
resembling  their  earthly  tabernacle.  They  can  roll  stones,  lift 
burdens  and  feel  the  punishments  of  Hell  and  the  penal  suffer- 
ings of  Purgatory.  The  blessed  in  the  lower  regions  of  Para- 
dise retain  human  lineaments,  but  in  the  higher  regions  they 
appear  only  as  flames,  and  in  the  Empyrean  each  ]:egains  his  own 
body  in  glorified  shape. 

EXPLANATION  OF  THE  COMMEDIA. 
To  understand  the  Divina  Commedia,  we  must  keep  in  mind 
that  Dante  accepted  the  mediaeval  hermeneutical  canon  of  a  four- 
fold sense  of  the  Scriptures  and  applied  it  to  his  poem :  a  literal 
or  historical  sense,  and  three  spiritual  senses — the  allegorical 
proper,  the  moral,  and  the  anagogical,  corresponding  to  the  three 
cardinal  graces :  faith  (credenda),  love  (agenda),  and  hope  {sper- 
anda),  as  expressed  in  the  couplet : — 

"  Liitera  gesta  docet ;  quid  credas^  allegoria ; 
Moralis^  quid  agas ;  quo  tendas,  anagogia. 

Thus,  Jerusalem  means  literally  or  historically  the  city  in 
Palestine;  allegorically,  the  church  ;  morally,  the  believing  soul ; 

^  In  Modern  Painters,  vol.  III.,  ch.  14,  copied  iu  Lougfellow's  Danic,  ii., 
422  sqq. 


THE  DIVIXA  COM.MEDIA.  3G1 

anagogically,  the  heavenly  home  of  saints.  Babylon  may  mean 
the  city  on  the  Euphrates,  or  the  world,  or  heathen  and  anti- 
Christian  Rome,  or  the  enemies  of  the  church.  The  three 
spiritual  senses  may  be  united  in  one  sense,  called  allegorical  or 
mystical. 

'The  allegorical  interpretation  was  first  systematized  by  Origen 
in  the  third  century,  who  followed  in  the  steps  of  Philo,  the 
Jewish  Platonist,  and  distinguished  three  senses  in  the  Bible,  a 
somatic  or  literal,  a  psychic  or  moral,  and  a  pneumatic  or  mysti- 
cal sense,  which  correspond  to  the  body,  soul,  and  spirit  of  man 
(according  to  the  Platonic  trichotomy).  The  theory  of  a  four- 
fold sense  was  developed  in  the  fifth  century  by  Eucherius  (d. 
450)  and  Cassian  (d.  450),  and  more  fully  by  Rabanus  Maurus 
(d.  85G).  All  the  patristic,  scholastic,  and  many  of  the  older 
Protestant  commentators  indulged  more  or  less  in  allegorical  ex- 
position and  imposition.  The  grammatico-historical  exegesis  of 
modern  times  assumes  that  the  biblical,  like  all  other  writers, 
intend  to  convey  one  and  only  one  definite  meaning,  according  to 
the  use  of  words  familiar  to  the  readers.  This  sound  principle 
is  not  inconsistent  with  the  hidden  depth  and  manifold  applica- 
bility of  the  Scripture  truths  to  all  ages  and  conditions.  But 
explication  is  one  thing,  and  application  is  another  thing.  The 
business  of  the  exegete  is  not  to  put  his  own  fancies  into  the 
Bible,  but  to  take  out  God's  facts  and  truths  from  the  Bible  and 
to  furnish  a  solid  basis  to  the  preacher  for  his  practical  applica- 
tion. An  exception  may  be  made  with  allegories,  parables  and 
fables,  where  the  author,  at  the  outset,  contemplated  a  double 
meaning;  and  this  was  the  case  with  the  Commedia. 

Dante  expounds  his  theory  in  the  Convito  as  follows  •} — 

' '  We  should  know  that  books  can  be  understood,  and  ought  to  be  ex- 
plained, in  four  principal  senses.  One  is  called  literal,  and  this  it  is  which 
goes  no  farther  than  the  letter,  such  as  the  simple  narration  of  the  thing 
of  which  you  treat  [of  which  a  perfect  and  appropriate  example  is  to  be 
found  in  the  third  canzone  treating  of  nobility].  The  second  is  called  alle- 
fforical,  and  this  is  the  meaning  hidden  under  the  cloak  of  fables,  and  is  a 
tmth  concealed  beneath  a  fair  fiction  ;  as  when  Ovid  says  that  Orpheus 
with  his  lute  tamed  wild  beasts  and  moved  trees  and  rocks  ;  which  means 
that  the  wise  man,  with  the  instrument  of  his  voice,  softens  and  humbles 

^  Book  II.,  ch.  I.,  p.  51  sqq.  iu  K.  Hillard's  translation. 


362  THE  DIVINA  COMMEDIA. 

cruel  hearts,  and  moves  at  his  will  those  who  live  neither  for  science  nor 
for  art,  and  those  who,  having  no  rational  life  whatever,  are  almost  like 
stones.  And  how  this  hidden  thing  [the  allegorical  meaning]  may  be  found 
by  the  wise,  will  be  explained  in  the  last  book  but  one.  The  theologians, 
however,  take  this  meaning  differently  from  the  poets  ;  but  because  I 
intend  to  follow  here  the  method  of  the  poets,  I  shall  take  the  allegorical 
meaning  according  to  their  usage. 

' '  The  third  sense  is  called  moral ;  and  this  readers  should  carefully  gather 
from  all  writings  for  the  benefit  of  themselves  and  their  descendants ;  it  is 
such  as  we  may  gather  from  the  gospel  when  Christ  went  up  into  the 
mountain  to  be  transfigured,  and  of  the  twelve  apostles  took  with  him  but 
three  ;  which,  in  the  moral  sense,  may  be  understood  thus,  that  in  most 
secret  things  we  should  have  few  companions. 

"The  fourth  sense  is  called  anagogical  [or  mystical],  that  is,  beyond 
sense  ;  and  this  is  when  a  book  is  spiritually  expounded,  which,  although 
[a  narration]  in  its  literal  sense,  by  the  things  signified  refers  to  the  super- 
nal things  of  the  eternal  glory  ;  as  we  may  see  in  that  psalm  of  the  Prophet 
(Ps.  114  :  2),  when  he  says  that  when  Israel  went  out  of  Egypt  Judaea 
became  holy  and  free.  Which,  although  manifestly  tnie  according  to  the 
letter,  is  nevertheless  tnie  also  in  its  spiritual  meaning — that  the  soul,  in 
forsaking  its  sins,  becomes  holy  and  free  in  its  powers  [functions]. 

"And  in  such  demonstration  the  literal  sense  should  always  come  first,  as 
that  whose  meaning  includes  all  the  rest,  and  without  which  it  would  be 
impossible  and  irrational  to  understand  the  others  ;  and,  above  all,  would  it 
be  impossible  with  the  allegorical.  Because  in  everything  which  has  an 
inside  and  an  outside,  it  is  impossible  to  get  at  the  inside  if  we  have  not 
first  got  at  the  outside.  Therefore,  as  in  books  the  literal  sense  is  always 
outside,  it  is  impossible  to  get  at  the  other  [senses],  especially  the  alle- 
gorical, without  first  getting  at  the  literal. ' ' 

In  a  long  letter  to  Can  Grande  della  Scala/  in  which  Dante 
dedicates  to  him  the  opening  cantos  of  the  Paradiso,  he  makes 
the  same  distinction  and  illustrates  it  more  fully  by  the  same 
example  of  the  Exodus  from  Egypt  (Ps.  114:1),  which,  he 
says,  means  literally,  the  historical  fact;  allegorically,  our 
redemption  by  Christ ;  morally,  the  conversion  of  the  soul  from 
the  misery  of  sin  to  a  state  of  grace;  and  anagogically,  the 
exodus  of  the  sanctified  soul  from  the  servitude  of  this  corrupt 
state  to  the  liberty  of  eternal  glory.     Then  he  makes  the  appli- 

^  Blafjnifico  atqne  victorioso  domino,  Kami  Grandi  de  la  Scala  •  .  .  devo- 
tissimus  stius  Dantes  Alagherii,  florentinns  natione,  nan  morihus,  etc.,  in 
Fraticclli's  ed.  of//  Convito  e  le  Epistoh\  p.  508  sqq.  Fratieelli  assigns  the 
letter  to  131G  or  1317,  others  to  1320.  The  genuineness  has  been  disputed, 
but  without  Kood  reason. 


THE  DIVIXA  COMMEDIA.  363 

cation    of  this  exegetical    canon    to    his   own    Comedy    in  this 
important  passage : — 

"  The  subject  of  the  whole  work,  taken  hterally,  is  the  condition  of  souls 
after  death,  simply  considered.  For  on  this  and  around  this  the  whole 
action  of  the  work  turns.  But  if  the  work  be  taken  allegorically,  the 
subject  is  man,  how  by  actions  of  merit  or  demerit,  through  freedom  of 
the  will,  he  justly  deserves  reward  or  punishment."^ 

Plumptre  (ii.  358)  directs  attention  to  an  interesting  parallel- 
ism, the  double  sense  of  Spenser's  Faerie  Queene,  as  explained 
in  his  Epistle  to  Sir  Walter  Raleigh,  where  he  describes  his 
book  as  "  a  continued  Allegory  or  Dark  Conceit.'^  The  story  of 
King  Arthur  is  the  outward  framework ;  the  Fairy  Queen 
(resembling  Beatrice)  is  both  Queen  Elizabeth  and  Glory  ;  Duessa 
is  Queen  Mary  of  Scots  [?]  and  the  Church  of  Rome. 

The  hermeneutical  canon  of  Dante  does  not  require  us  to 
seek  four  senses  in  every  word  or  character  of  the  Commedia. 
This  would  be  sheer  pedantry  and  lead  to  endless  confusion. 
It  is  enough  to  find  a  literal  and  a  spiritual  meaning  in  the  work 
as  a  wdiole,  and  in  its  leading  actors.  Thus  Dante  is  an  indi- 
vidual and  at  the  same  time  a  representative  of  man  in  his 
pilgrimage  to  Heaven.  Virgil  is  the  old  Roman  poet,  who 
wrote  the  JEneid  and  taught  Dante  his  beautiful  style,  but 
represents  at  the  same  time  human  reason  or  the  light  of  nature. 
Beatrice  is  the  angelic  maiden  of  Florence,  and  a  symbol  of 
divine  revelation,  wisdom  and  love.  Lucia  is  the  saintly  virgin 
and  martyr  of  Syracuse,  the  patroness  of  the  blind,  and  signifies 
the  illumination  of  prevenient  grace.  The  mysterious  DUX  is 
Can  Grande  of  Verona,  and  some  future  reformer  of  church  and 

1  Est  ergo  suhjecfum  iotius  ojjcris,  Uteralifer  tantum  acccpti,  status  animarum 
post  mortem  simpJiciter  sumptus.  Nam  de  illo  et  circa  ilium  totius  operis  versatur 
proccssiis.  Si  vero  accipiatur  opus  aUegorice,  subjectum  est  homo,  prout  merendo 
et  demcrcndo  per  arhitrii  Jihcrtatem  Juslitiw  prxmianti  aut  punienti  ohnoxius 
est.''^  In  Par.,  V. ,  19  sqq.,  Beatrice  thus  instructs  liim  ou  the  high  importance 
of  the  freedom  of  the  will  : — 

"The  greatest  gift  that  in  his  largess  God 

Creating  made,  and  unto  his  own  goodness 
Nearest  conformed,  and  which  he  doth  prize 
Most  highly,  is  the  freedom  of  the  will. 
Wherewith  the  creatures  of  intelligence 
Both  all  and  only  were  and  are  endowed. ' ' 


364  THE  DIVIXA  COMMEDIA. 

state.  The  dark  forest  in  which  the  poet  finds  himself  at  the 
beginning  is  the  labyrinth  of  sin  and  error.  The  three  beasts 
which  prevent  him  from  climbing  up  the  illuminated  mountain 
are  the  human  passions  (lust^  pride,  and  greed  of  gain)  and  at 
the  same  time  Florence,  France,  and  the  corrupt  papacy. 

It  is  inconsistent  with  Dante's  rule  to  deny  either  the  allegori- 
cal meaning,  or  the  historical  reality  of  the  persons  introduced, 
and  to  resolve  them  into  mere  abstractions.  The  last  has  been 
done  frequently  in  the  case  of  Beatrice  and  the  Donna  Pietosa. 
The  most  recent  writer  on  Beatrice  makes  her  simply  an  allegory 
of  the  ideal  church,  as  the  spouse  of  Christ,  the  Shulamite  of 
the  Song  of  Solomon,  and  explains  her  death  to  mean  the  transfer 
of  the  papacy  to  Avignon  and  the  Babylonian  exile.-^  But  Dante 
does  not  identify  the  church  with  the  papacy,  and  attacks  the 
papacy  at  Rome  in  the  person  of  Boniface  VIII.,  as  well  as  the 
papacy  at  Avignon  in  the  persons  of  Clement  V.  and  John 
XXII.  The  severest  rebuke  of  the  Roman  Church  is  put  into 
the  mouth  of  Beatrice  and  of  St.  Peter.^  Beatrice  distinguishes 
herself  from  the  church  triumphant  when  she,  with  flaming  face 
and  eyes  full  of  ecstasy,  points  Dante  to  "  the  hosts  of  Christ^s 
triumphal  march.^^  ^  She  is  only  one  among  the  most  exalted 
saints,  and  occupies  in  Paradise  the  same  seat  with  Rachel,  the 
emblem  of  contemplation,  below  Eve  and  the  Virgin  Mary.^ 

In  calling  one  of  his  daughters  Beatrice^  Dante  wished  her  to 
be   a   reflection   of  his  saintly   patron   in  heaven.     His  other 

^  G.  Gietmann  (of  the  Society  of  Jesus)  ;  Beatrice^  Geist  und  Kern  der 
Dante^schen  Dichtung,  Freiburg  i,  B.  1889.  This  book  came  to  hand  wliile 
writing  the  essay.  My  views  of  Beatrice  are  given  in  the  article  on  Dante, 
p.  290  sq. 

2  Comp.  Inf.,  XIX.,  53  ;  XXVII.,  70,  85;  Purg.,  xx.,  87;  xxxil.,  149; 
XXXIII.,  44  ;  Far.,  ix.,  132  ;  Xli.,  90  ;  XVIL,  50.  sq.  ("Where  every  day 
the  Christ  is  bought  and  sold")  ;  xxvii.,  18  sqq.  (Peter's  fearful  censure 
of  the  Church  of  Kome)  ;  xxx.,  145  sqq.  (where  Beatrice  predicts  that  Cle- 
ment V.  shall  soon  be  thrust  down  to  keep  company  with  Simon  Magus).  The 
death  of  Boniface  and  the  removal  to  Avignon  is  prophesied  as  a  deliverance 
of  the  Vatican  "from  the  adulterer "  (Boniface  VIII.).     Par.  ix.,  139-142. 

3  Par.  XXIII.,  19-21. 

^  Par.,  xxxir.,  7;  comp.  Inf.,  IT.,  102:  "  Where  I  was  sitting  with  the 
ancient  Kachel." 


THE  DIVIXA  COMMEDIA.  365 

daughter  lie  named  Imjyeria,  probably  with  reference  to  his 
political  ideal,  the  imperium  liomanum,  which  he  set  forth  in 
his  work  on  the  Monarchy. 

DESIGN  OF  THE  COIMMEDIA. 

To  the  double  sense  of  the  Commedia  corresponds  a  double 
design;  one  is  individual,  the  other  is  general.  Dante  says,  in 
the  same  letter  to  Can  Grande,  that  the  poem  aims  to  remove 
the  living  from  the  state  of  misery  and  to  lead  them  to  the  state 
of  felicity.-^ 

The  Commedia  is  Dante's  own  spiritual  biography,  his  pil- 
grimage from  the  dark  forest  of  temptation  and  sin  through 
suffering  and  purification  to  the  purity  and  peace  of  heaven. 
He  is  an  interested  spectator  and  participant  in  the  awful 
sufferings  of  Hell,^  and  a  penitent  in  Purgatory,  from  whose 
heart  the  seven  mortal  sins,  like  the  seven  P's  upon  his  forehead, 
are  gradually  purged  away.^  Then  only  he  obtains  a  foretaste  of 
that  happiness  which  he  hoped  and  longed  to  inherit.^  And  this 
longing  increased  as  he  advanced  in  life  and  grew  weary  of  the 
corruptions  of  this  evil  world.^ 

^  ''^  Finis  totius  et  partis  esse  potest  multiplex,  scilicet  propinquus  ct  remotus. 
Sed  omissa  subtili  investir/atione,  dicendum  est  breviter  quod  finis  totius  et  partis 
est,  removere  viventes  in  hac  vita  de  statu  miserise,  et  joerducere  ad  statum  felici- 
tatis. 

-  Inf.,  v.,  140  sqq  :— 

"  The  other  one  did  weep  so,  that,  for  pity, 

I  swooned  away  as  if  I  had  been  dying, 
And  fell,  even  as  a  dead  body  falls." 

3  Purg.,  IX.,  112-114:— 

"Seven  P's  upon  my  forehead  he  described 

With  the  sword's  point,  and  '  Take  heed  that  thou  wash 
These  wounds,  when  thou  shalt  be  within,'  he  said." 

4  Par.,  v.,  105  ;  XXX.,  135  :— 

' '  Before  thou  suppest  at  this  wedding  feast. ' ' 

5  Purg.,  XXIV.,  76-81  : — 

"  How  long,"  I  answered,  "  I  may  live,  I  know  not ; 
Yet  my  return  will  not  so  speedy  be, 
But  I  shall  sooner  in  desire  arrive  ; 
Because  the  place  where  I  was  set  to  live 

From  day  to  day  of  good  is  more  depleted, 
And  unto  dismal  ruin  seems  ordained." 


S66  THE  DIVINA  COMMEDIA. 

But  the  Commedia  has  a  much  wider  meaning.  It  is  the 
spiritual  biography  of  man  as  man  ;  it  is  the  sinner's  pilgrimage 
from  earth  to  heaven.  Ruskin  calls  Dante  *^  the  central  man 
of  all  the  world."  Dante's  conceptions  of  the  universe  and  the 
locality  of  the  future  world  have  passed  away  with  the  Ptolemaic 
system  ;  but  the  moral  ideas  of  his  poem  remain.  He  knew  no 
more  than  we  do,  and  we  know  no  more  than  he  did  about 

' '  The  undiscovered  country,  from  whose  bourn 
No  traveler  returns. ' ' 

The  supernatural  geography  is  a  subject  of  uncertain  opinion 
and  speculation,  but  not  of  revelation  and  of  faith.  We  know  noth- 
ing of  the  future  world  beyond  that  which  God  has  chosen  to 
reveal,  and  this  is  very  little.  There  are  more  things  in  heaven 
and  hell  than  "are  dreamed  of  in  our  philosophy,"  or  are 
taught  us  in  the  Bible.  One  thing  is  certein,  however,  that  there 
is  somewhere  within  or  without  the  created  universe  a  heaven 
and  a  hell,  or  a  future  state  of  reward  and  punishment.  With- 
out this  final  solution  the  present  life  has  no  meaning.  Sin  and 
misery  is  hell ;  repentance  and  godly  sorrow  is  purgatory ; 
holiness  and  bliss  is  heaven — already  here  on  earth,  and  more 
fully  hereafter.  The  way  to  heaven  leads  through  knowledge 
of  sin  and  through  repentance. 

In  Dante's  Inferno  all  is  darkness  and  despair ;  in  the  Par- 
gatorio,  sunlight  and  hope;  in  the  Paradiso^  pure  light  and 
bliss.  In  the  first  we  are  repelled,  shocked  and  disgusted  by 
the  pictures  of  moral  deformity  and  hopeless  misery ;  in  the 
second  we  are  moved  to  tears  by  the  struggles  of  penitent  souls, 
their  prayers,  their  psalms,  their  aspirations  for  purity  and 
longings  for  peace;  in  the  third  we  are  lost  in  the  raptures  of 
the  beatific  vision. 

Purgatory,  as  a  third  or  distinct  place  and  state  in  the  future 
world,  is  a  mediaeval  fiction  and  has  lost  its  significance  in  the 
Protestant  creeds ;  but  as  a  poetic  description  of  the  transition 
state  from  sin  to  holiness,  it  comes  home  to  our  daily  experience 
and  appeals  to  our  sympathies.  For  this  life  is  a  school  of 
moral  discipline  and  a  constant  battle  between  the  flesh  and  the 
spirit.  The  Inferno  is  diabolic,  the  Purgatorio  is  human,  the 
Paradiso  is  angelic. 


THE  DIVINA  COMMEDIA.  367 

THE  WAY  TO  PARADISE. 

On  this  pilgrimage  from  earth  to  heaven  man  needs  the  guid- 
ance of  reason  and  revelation.  The  former  is  embodied  in  Vir- 
gil, the  latter  in  Beatrice. 

The  Scholastic  theology  regarded  Aristotle  as  the  representa- 
tive of  reason  and  philosophy,  who,  like  another  John  the  Bap- 
tist, prepared  the  way  for  Christ.  Dante  himself  calls  him  the 
"  master  of  those  who  know,"  who  presides  over  the  philosophic 
family  in  the  border  land  of  the  Inferno}  Nevertheless,  he 
chose  Virgil  as  his  guide,  for  several  reasons :  Virgil  was  a  poet 
and  Dante^s  master  and  favorite  author  f  he  had  described  the 
descent  to  the  spirit  world  and  thereby  anticipated  the  Coimne- 
dia  ;^  he  was  the  prophet  of  imperial  Rome  and  its  successor, 
the  holy  Roman  empire.  Virgil  and  Aristotle  combined  represent 
the  highest  wisdom — poetry  and  philosophy — of  which  human 
reason  is  capable  without  the  aid  of  divine  grace. 

Virgil  came  to  Dante,  not  of  his  own  accord,  but  at  the 
request  of  Beatrice,  who  had  been  urged  by  St.  Lucia  at  the 
desire  of  the  Virgin  Mary.^  Sympathetic,  intercessory,  and 
prevenient  grace  made  use  of  human  wisdom  in  the  preparatory 
process  of  salvation.  Reason  is  under  higher  influence  and  sub- 
servient to  revelation. 

Virgil  leads  Dante  through  the  Inferno  and  Purgatorioj  but 
is  most  at  home  in  the  former,  where  he  takes  sure  steps  and 
well  knows  the  way.^  Only  in  that  region  where  Hell  has 
changed  its  form  by  reason  of  the  earthquake  at  the  death  of 

1  Inf.,  IV.,  131  sq  :— 

"  Vidi  il  3Iaestro  di  color  che  sanno, 
Seder  ira  filosofiea  famigJia. ' ' 

2  Inf.,  I.,  85sqq  :— 

' '  Thou  art  my  master,  and  my  author  thou, 

Thou  art  alone  the  one  from  whom  I  took 
The  beautiful  style  that  hath  done  honor  to  me." 
In  Inf.,  VIII.,  110,  and  Purg.,  xxvii.,  52,  he  calls  him  his  "  father  sweet," 
lo  dolce  padre. 

^  In  the  sixth  book  of  the  ^Eneid. 

^  Inf.,  II.,  52  sqq.  ;  94  sqq. 

5  Inf.,  IX.  30  :  "  Ben  so  il  cammin.'^ 


368  THE  DIVINA  COMMEDIA. 

Christ  is  he  forced  to  enquire  the  way.-"^  In  Purgatory  he  calls 
himself  a  stranger  and  takes  uncertain  and  timid  steps.^  Hence, 
he  himself  needs  the  guidance  of  angels  from  terrace  to  terrace. 
He  represents  here  that  prophetic  anticipation  which  goes  be- 
yond ordinary  paganism.  Human  reason  knows  much  of  sin 
and  misery,  but  very  little  of  repentance  unto  life. 

Having  reached  the  summit  of  the  Mount  of  Purgatory  or 
the  terrestrial  Paradise,  Virgil  is  compelled  to  return  to  the 
infernal  region  of  darkness.  Philosophy  can  only  lead  to  the 
threshold  of  revelation.^  A  higher  guide  is  now  needed. 
Beatrice  conducts  the  poet  from  the  terrestrial  to  the  celestial 
Paradise  in  the  name  of  revealed  wisdom  and  the  three  Christian 
graces — faith,  hope,  love — which  dance  around  lier.^ 

God  is  love,  and  love  only  can  know  God.  Hence  St. 
Bernard  of  Clairvaux  is  given  a  prominent  place  in  Paradise.^ 
His  motto  was :  "  God  is  known  as  far  as  he  is  loved. "^  He  is 
the  champion  of  orthodox  mysticism  which  approaches  divine 
truth  by  devout  contemplation  and  prayer ;  while  scholasticism 
tries  to  reach  it  by  a  process  of  reasoning.  He  leads  Dante 
to  gaze  upon  the  mystery  of  the  Holy  Trinity  after  preparing 
himself  for  it  by  prayer  to  the  Holy  Virgin.'^ 

The  Virgin  Mary,  St.  Bernard,  St.  Lucia,  Beatrice  and  all 

1  Inf.,  XII.,  91-94  ;  xxiii.,  127-132  (comp.  ver.  37  sqq.). 

2  Purg.,  II.,  61-63  :— 

"And  answer  made  Virgilius  : — '  Ye  believe, 

Perchance  that  we  have  knowledge  of  this  place, 
But  we  are  strangers  {peregrin)^  even  as  yourselves.'  " 

3  Purg.,  XVIII.,  46-49:— 

"And  he  to  me  :  '  What  reason  seeth  here, 
Myself  can  tell  thee  ;  beyond  that  await 
For  Beatrice,  since  'tis  a  work  of  faith.'  " 

^  Purg.,  XXXI.,  130-135. 

*  Par. J  XXXI.,  94  sqq.;  139  sqq.;  XXXII.,  1  sqq. 

®  "  Tantum  Dcus  eognoscitiir  quantum  diligitur.^^ 

''  Par..,  XXXIII.,  1  sqq.  :— 

' '  Thou  Virgin  Mother,  daughter  of  thy  Son, 

Humble  and  higli  beyond  all  other  creatures." 


THE  DIYIXA  COMMEDIA.  369 

other  saints  are  only  agents  of  the  one  only  Mediator  Christ, 
without  whom  there  is  no  salvation. 

' '  Unto  this  Kingdom  never 
Ascended  one  who  had  not  faitli  in  Christ 
Before  or  since  He  to  the  tree  was  nailed. ' '  ^ 

Many,  however,  here  cry,  "  Christ,  Christ,"  who  at  the  judg- 
ment shall  be  far  less  near  Him  than  "  some  shall  be  who  knew 
not  Christ."^  In  the  Kose  of  Paradise  are  seated  on  one  side  the 
saints  of  the  Old  Dispensation, 

"Who  believed  in  Christ  who  was  to  come  ;" 
on  the  other  side  the  saints  of  the  Xew  Dispensation, 
"  Who  looked  to  Christ  already  come."^ 

Under  the  Christian  Dispensation  baptism  is  necessary  to  sal- 
vation, so  that  even  unbaptized  innocence  is  detained  in  hell.^ 

Christ  is  often  alluded  to  in  the  Purgatorio  and  Paradiso  as 
our  Lord  and  Saviour,  as  ''  the  exalted  Son  of  God  and  Mary,'' 
as  '*  God  of  very  God,"  as  ^'  the  Lamb  of  God  who  taketh  sins 
away,"  who  ^'suffered  death  that  we  may  live."^ 

In  the  Inferno  the  name  of  Christ  is  never  mentioned,  for  the 
damned  cannot  endure  it,  but  he  is  twice  alluded  to  by  Virgil 
as  ^'the  Mighty  One  "  whom  he  saw  descending  into  Hell  "with 
the  sign  of  victory  crowned,"  and  in  the  closing  Canto,  when 
passing  from  the  Injerno  to  the  Purgatorio,  as 

' '  The  Man  who  without  sin  was  born  and  lived. ' '  '^ 

It  is  also  significant  that  the  Xame,  which  is  above  every 
name  and  in  which  alone  we  can  be  saved,  is  made  to  rhyme 
only  with  itself.  Hence  he  repeats  the  word  Cristo  three  times 
whenever  it  closes  a  line.^ 

1  Par.,  XIX.,  103-105.        ^  p„,.,^  xix.,  106-108.         ^  p„,._^  xxxii.,  22-24. 

^  Far.,  xxxil.,  76-84.  This  fearful  doctrine  of  the  damnation  of  unbap- 
tized infants  dying  in  infancy  was  lir.st  clearly  stated  by  St.  Augustin  and 
is  still  held  by  the  Roman  Church. 

5  Pnrg.,  XVI.,  18  ;  XXIII.,  75;  XXXII.,  113  sq.;  Far.,  XVI.,  18  ;  XXIII., 
136  ;  XXVI.,  59  ;  xxxi.,  107  ;  xxxii.,  113,  sq. 

'^  Lif.  IV.,  53,  54  ;  xxxiv.,  115. 

^  See  the  passages  ending  with  Cristo,  e.g.  Far.  xiv.,  104,  106,  108;  xix., 
104,  106,  108  ;  xxxii.,  83,  85  and  87.  The  reason  for  this  repetition  is  not  a 
defect  of  the  Italian  language,  which  has  many  rhymes  to  Cristo,  as  vistOy 
misto,  acquisto,  tristo. 

24 


370  THE  DIVINA  COMMEDIA. 

THE  POETIC  FORM  OF  THE  COMMEDIA. 

The  Commedia  consists  of  three  parts,  Hell,  Purgatory,  and 
Paradise.  Each  part  includes  nine  sub-divisions,  and  thirty- 
three  songs  or  cantos.  Hell,  however,  has  an  additional  canto, 
which  serves  as  a  general  introduction  to  the  whole,  so  that  the 
poem  numbers  altogether  one  hundred  cantos,  and  fourteen 
thousand  two  hundred  and  thirty  verses. 

The  system  of  versification  chosen  by  Dante  for  the  expres- 
sion of  his  thoughts,  is  the  terza  rima,  borrowed  from  the 
Proven9al  Troubadours,  which  combines  the  character  of  earnest- 
ness and  solemnity  with  that  of  gracefulness  and  melody,  and  is 
admirably  adapted  to  the  contents  of  the  poem.  Each  stanza 
consists  of  three  lines,  each  line  of  eleven  syllables,  making 
thirty-three  syllables  for  each  stanza.  One  line  rhymes  with  two 
in  the  following  stanzas;  but  the  last  four  rhymes  of  each  canto 
are  couplets  instead  of  triplets.  The  accent  falls  regularly 
according  to  the  law  of  }K)etic  harmony.  Thomas  a  Celano,  who 
died  several  years  before  Dante  was  born,  had  used  the  triple 
rhyme  in  Latin  (but  in  unbroken  succession)  most  effectively 
and  inimitably  in  his  Dies  Irce. 

Everywhere  in  the  Commedia  we  meet  with  the  number 
three.  It  is  the  symbolic  number  of  the  Deity.  The  Paradiso 
is  full  of  the  praise  of  the  Triune  God.  The  superscription  of 
the  InfernOy  consisting  of  three  stanzas,  reminds  us  already  of 
Him  with  fearful  earnestness,  and  the  thirty-third  canto  of  the 
Paradiso  closes  with  the  vision  of  the  Trinity.  According  to 
Aristotle,  everything  consists  of  beginning,  middle,  and  end. 
According  to  Thomas  Aquinas,  this  fundamental  idea  of  Chris- 
tianity pervades  the  whole  constitution  of  the  world.  Tlie  name 
of  the  Holy  Trinity  is  written  upon  creation,  and  stamped  upon 
eternity.  Our  poet  represents  even  Satan  with  three  faces,  as  the 
terrible  antitype  of  the  Triune  God.  The  fact  that  the  Commedia 
embraces  one  hundred  songs,  symbolizes  the  perfection  of  the 
poem  which  is  complete  in  itself,  a  true  picture  of  the  harmonious 
universe.  The  number  ten  is  the  symbol  of  perfection,^  and  its 
square, one  hundred,  designates  absolute  perfection  or  completion,^ 

^  "  Numero  pcrfctto,''^  as  Dante  designates  it  in  the  Vita  Nuova. 
^  ' '  Numcro  pcrfcttissimo. ' ' 


THE  DIVIXA  COMMEDIA.  371 

To  show  how  strictly  Dante  made  it  his  object  to  reach  an 
even  measure,  or  to  make  use  of  a  certain  economy  in  the  form, 
we  may  mention  the  circumstance  that  each  of  the  three  parts 
closes  with  the  word  "  sklle,^^  or  stars ;  for  these  are,  according 
to  him,  the  blessed  abodes  of  peace,  whither  Iiis  view  is  ever 
directed,  and  to  which  he  would  also  gladly  draw  with  liim  his 
readers.  "Can  I  not  everywhere  look  up  to  the  stars ?'^  he 
wrote  to  the  government  of  Florence  when  he  proudly  refused 
the  offer  of  pardon. 

As  already  remarked,  he  always  rhymes  the  peerless  name  of 
Christ  three  times  with  itself,  and  with  itself  only. 

The  rhyme  came  to  him  most  naturally  as  the  expression  of  the 
idea.  Both  were  born  together  as  body  and  soul.  A  contempo- 
rary of  Dante  (the  unknown  author  of  the  Ottimo  commento) 
heard  him  say  "  that  a  rhyme  had  never  led  him  to  change  his 
thought,  but  that  often  he  had  made  words  express  for  him  new 
meanino^s.^' 

The  language  of  the  poem  is  everywhere  made  to  correspond 
with  the  character  of  the  thought :  in  Hell,  it  is  awfully  earnest; 
in  Purgatory,  affectingly  pensive;  in  Paradise,  transportingly 
charming ;  in  all  parts  simple  and  noble,  solemn  and  elevated.  It 
abounds  in  symbols  and  images,  and  sounds  like  cathedral  music. 

A  strikino;  feature  is  Dante's  terseness  and  conciseness,  which 
reminds  one  of  Tacitus  and  Tertullian.  He  says  no  more  than 
enough,  and  condenses  muUum  in  pa?'vo,  even  at  the  expense  of 
clearness.  He  writes  as  the  lio-htnino;  writes  on  rocks.  "  One 
smiting  word,  and  then  there  is  silence,  nothing  more  said.  His 
silence  is  more  eloquent  than  words.''     (Th.  Carlyle.)^ 

Altogether,  the  form  of  the  poem  as  much  as  the  contents 
reveals  the  highest  order  of  creative  genius. 

Dante  intended  to  write  the  Commedia  in  Latin,  but  wisely 
abandoned  the  idea  and  chose  the  vernacular.  He  thus  became 
the  creator  of  Italian  poetry,  as  Boccaccio,  of  Italian  prose. 

^  Prof.  Botta  {Inirod.  to  Dnntc,  p.  137)  thus  describes  Daute's  style  :  "  It 
comhines  sublimity  with  simplicity,  strength  with  ardor,  and  intellectual 
speculation  with  glowing  imagination.  Vigorous  and  concise,  it  may  be  said 
of  Dante  as  has  been  said  of  Homer,  that  it  is  easier  to  wrench  the  club  from 
the  hand  of  Hercules  than  to  take  a  word  from  his  verses  without  endangering 
their  harmony  and  significance." 


372  THE  DIVIXA  COMMEDIA. 


THE  DARK  FOEEST. 
"  Midway  upon  tlie  journey  of  our  life 

I  found  myself  witliin  a  forest  dark, 

For  the  straightforward  pathway  had  been  lost. 

Ah,  me  !  how  hard  a  thing  it  is  to  say 

"What  was  this  forest  savage,  rough  and  stern, 
Which  in  the  very  thought  renews  the  fear." 

The  gloomy  and  savage  forest  to  which  the  poet  transports  us 
in  these  first  lines,  represents  the  condition  of  the  human  heart 
lying  in  sin  and  error,  and  also  the  condition  of  the  world  at  the 
time  of  Dante. 

With  the  dawn  of  day  he  reaches  the  end  of  the  forest,  and 
seeks  to  ascend  a  delectable  mountain  illuminated  by  the  sun^ 
the  symbol  of  virtue  and  of  the  empire.  His  efforts  are  in  vain, 
for  he  is  confronted  and  driven  back  by  a  spotted,  deceitful  and 
light-footed  leopard,  a  haughty  and  terrible  lion,  and  a  meagre 
and  ravenous  she-wolf.^  This  allegory  has  a  moral  as  well  as  a 
political  and  historical  meaning.  The  three  animals  reflect  the 
ruling  passions  of  the  human  heart  in  youth,  manhood,  and  old 
age,  and  symbolize  at  the  same  time  the  principal  powers  of  the 
times:  the  leopard  stands  for  cunning,  and  the  republic  of 
Florence;  the  lion  for  violence,  and  the  kingdom  of  France; 
the  she-wolf  for  avarice,  and  the  papal  court  at  Rome. 

Just  as  the  poet  rushes  down  the  mountain  and  back  again 
into  the  dark  forest,  he  beholds  the  shade  of  the  old  singer  of 
the  ^neid  and  prophet  of  the  Roman  empire,  who  represents 
secular  wisdom  and  statesmanship,  and  had  taught  him  the 
poetic  art.^  Virgil  was  sent  to  his  rescue  by  Beatrice,  the 
impersonation  of  divine  love  and  wisdom,  who  herself  was 
moved  by  the  prayers  of  St.  Lucia  and  the  sympathy  of  the 
Virgin  Mary.     He  comforts  Dante  by  predicting,  under  the 

^  Dou])tless  he  had  in  mind  here  the  passage  in  Jeremiah  v.,  G  :  "  Where- 
fore a  lion  out  of  the  forest  shall  slay  them,  a  wolf  of  the  evenings  [or, 
deserts]  shall  spoil  them,  a  leopard  shall  watch  over  their  cities  ;  every  one 
that  goeth  out  thence  shall  be  torn  in  pieces  :  because  their  transgressions  are 
many,  and  their  backslidings  are  increased."  The  three  sins  may  have  been 
suggested  by  "the  lust  of  the  flesh,  and  the  lust  of  the  eyes,  and  the  vain- 
glory of  life."     1  John  ii.,  16. 

^  "jLo  hello  stile  che  m^  hafatto  onore.^'     Inf.,  I.,  89. 


THE  DIVINA  COMMEDIA.  373 

form  of  a  Greyhound,  a  reformer  of  church  and  state,  and  offers 
to  lead  him  on  a  journey  through  Hell  and  Purgatory  that  he 
might  witness  the  terrible  punishments  of  the  wicked,  and  the 
purifying  sufferings  of  the  penitent.  Through  Paradise  he 
would  be  conducted  by  a  worthier  spirit,  Beatrice  herself. 

And  thus  the  two  brother  poets  enter  upon  their  visionary 
pilgrimage. 

THE  INSCRIPTION  ON  THE  GATE  OF  THE  INFERNO. 
Per  me  si  va  nella  citta  dolente  ; 

Per  me  si  va  nell'  eterno  dolore ; 
Per  me  si  va  tra  la  perduta  gente. 

Giustizia  mosse  il  mio  alto  Fattore  : 
Fecemi  la  divina  Potestate, 
La  somma  Sapienza,  e  il  primo  Amore. 

Dinanzi  a  me  non  fur  cose  create, 

Se  non  eterne,  ed  io  eterna  duro  : 
Lasciate  ogni  speranza,  voi,  ch'  entrate!^ 

This  inscription  written  in  dark  colors  on  the  gate  to  the 
abode  of  the  lost  has,  for  terrific  grandeur,  no  parallel  in  poetic 
literature.  It  is  as  trying  to  translators  as  the  Dies  Irce.  Let 
us  compare  some  of  the  best  versions,  unrhymed  and  rhymed. 

H.  F.  Gary.     1805.  Hexey  W.  Loxgfellow.     1867. 

Through  me  you  pass  into  the  city  of       Through  me  the  way  is  to  the  city  do- 
woe  :  lent ; 
Through  me  you  pass  into  eternal  pain  :              Through  me  the  way  is  to  eternal  dole  ;2 
Through  me  among  the  people  lost  for  aye.            Through  me  the  way  among  the  people 

lost. 


Justice  the  founder  of  my  fabric  moved 
To  rear  me  Avas  the  task  of  power  divine, 


Justice  incited  my  sublime  Creator; 


Supremest  wisdom,  and  primeval  love.  ^'"^^t*^^  ^^«  ^i^i"*^  Omnipotence, 

The   highest  Wisdom,  and  the  primal 

Love. 
Before  me  things  create  were  none,  save 

things  Before  me  there  were  no  created  things, 

Eternal,  and  eternal  I  endure.  Only  eterne,  and  I  eternal  last. 

All  li02)e  abandon,  ye  who  enter  here.  All  hope  abandon,  ye  who  enter  in  ! 

^7??/.,  III.,  1-9.  Witte's  text,  but  I  have  capitalized  the  three  nouns 
which  refer  to  the  Persons  of  the  Holy  Trinty.  Fraticelli  and  Scartazzini 
read  :  eterno  {efernamcnie)  for  eterna  (which  refers  to  porta.,  vers.  11). 

"■'  Longfellow  (as  he  told  me  himself  in  his  study,  where  I  saw  him  once, 
not  long  after  the  publication  of  his  translation)  wished  to  imitate  the  repeti- 
tion of  sounds  like  the  tolling  of  a  funeral  bell  :  dolente,  dolore.  But  it  is  too 
literal  for  easy  idiomatic  English,  as  is,  in  fact,  his  whole  otherwise  admirable 
translation. 


374 


THE  DIVIXA  COMMEDIA. 


ICHABOD  CHAELES  WEIGHT.     1833. 

Through  me  ye  enter  the  abode  of  woe: 
Through  me  to  endless  sorrow  are  con- 
veyed : 
Through  me  amid  the  souls  accurst  3'e 
go- 
Justice  did  first  my  lofty  Maker  move: 
By   Power   Almighty   was    my   fabric 

made, 
By  highest  "Wisdom,   and    by  primal 
Love. 

Ere  I  was  form'd,  no  things  created  were, 
Save  those  eternal — I  eternal  last : 
All  hope  abandon — ye  who  enter  here. 

Kael  Steeckfuss.     1824. 
Ich  fiihre  dich^  zur  Stadt  der  Qualerkor- 
nen, 
Ich  fiihre  dich  zum  unbegrenzten  Leid, 
Ich  fiihre  dich  zum  Volke  der  Verlorneu. 


Deax  E.  H.  Plumptee.     1887. 

Through  me  men  pass  to  city  of  great 
woe; 
Through  me  men  pass  to  endless  misery ; 
Through  me  men  pass  where  all  the  lost 
ones  go. 

Justice   it   was   that   moved   my   Maker 

high, 
The  Power  of  God  it  was  that  fashioned 

me, 
Wisdom  supreme,  and  primal  Charity. 

Before  me  nothing  was  of  things  that  be, 
Save  the  eterne,  and  I  cterne  endure  : 
Ye  that  pass  in,  all  hope  abandon  ye. 

Otto  Gildemeistee.     1888. 
Ich  fiihre  zu  der  Stadt  voll  Schmerz  und 
Grausen, 
Ich  fiihre  zu  dem  wandellosen  Leid, 
Ich  fiihre  hin,  wo  die  Yerlornen  hausen. 


Mich  schuf  mein  Meister  aus  Gerechtig- 
keit. 
Die  erste  Liebe  wirkte  mich  zu  griindcn, 
Die  hochste  Weisheit  und  AUmiichtig- 
keit. 

Vor  mir  war  nichts  ErschafFenes  zu  finden, 
Als  Ewiges,  und  ewig  daur'  auch  ich. 
Lasst,  die  ihr  eingeht,  jede  Hoflfnung 
schwinden  ! 


Ihn,  der  mich  schuf,  bewog    Gerechtig- 

keit, 
Mich  griindete  die  Macht  des  Unsicht- 

baren. 
Die  erste  Lieb  und  die  Alhvissenheit. 

Geschopfe    giebt   es  nicht,    die   vor    mir 
waren, 
Als  ewige,  die  selbst  ich  ewig  bin. 
Lasst,  die  ihr   eingeht,  alle  HofFnung 
fahren  ! 


Hell  was  founded  after  the  fall  of  Adam  by  the  Holy  Trinity, 
the  Almighty  power  of  the  Father  (la  divina  Potedate),  the 
Wisdom  of  the  Son  (la  somma  Sapienza),  and  the  Love  of  the 
Holy  Spirit  (z7  primo  Amore).  Love  is  called  the  "  first  ^^ 
because  it  is  tiie  motive  of  the  creation  and  of  all  the  works  of 
God.  According  to  Thomas  Aquinas,  all  the  works  of  the 
Holy  Trinity  are  common  to  the  three  Persons. 

^  Durch  mich  geld  man,  would  be  more  literal  and  just  as  good.  A  door 
cannot  be  said  to  lead. 


THE  DIVINA  COMMEDIA.  375 


ENDLESS  rUXISHxMENT. 

Dante  agrees  with  the  orthodox  Catholic  faith  as  to  endless 
punishment,  and  peoples  hell  not  only  with  all  impenitent  sin- 
ners who  rejected  the  gospel,  but  also  with  all  unbaptized  adults 
and  children  who  never  heard  the  name  of  Christ.  This  would 
include  all  the  heathen,  Jews  and  Mohammedans  who,  before 
and  after  Christ,  constitute  the  overwhelming  majority  of  the 
human  race.  He  exempts  only  the  Hebrew  saints  who  were 
redeemed  by  Christ  from  their  subterranean  prison  at  his  descent 
into  the  nether  w^orld. 

It  is  true,  he  moderates,  in  accordance  with  Catholic  doctrine, 
the  sufferings  of  unbaptized  children  and  the  nobler  heathen. 
The  Scholastic  divines  make  a  distinction  between  the  negative 
penalty  of  loss  {poena  damni),  and  the  positive  penalty  of  sense 
(posna  sensus),  and  usually  exempted  infants  from  the  latter. 
According  to  Dante,  they  utter  "  no  lamentations  but  only 
sighs  '^  from  "  sorrow  without  pain.^'  ^  The  reason  of  their  ex- 
clusion from  heaven  is  not  that  they  sinned,  but  that  they 
"  had  not  baptism,  which  is  the  portal  of  the  faith.'' ^ 

The  heathen  are  lost,  as  Yirgil  says,  who  includes  himself  in 
the  number,  because 

"  111  the  right  manner  they  adored  not  God,  .  .  . 
For  such  defects,  and  not  for  other  guilt, 
Lost  are  we,  and  are  only  so  far  punished, 
That  without  hope  we  live  on. in  desire."^ 

Dante  is  "  seized  with  grief  in  his  heart "  when  he  hears  this, 
because  ^'some  people  of  much  worthiness''  he  knew  ^^  were 
suspended  in  that  Limbo."  Virgil  informs  him  that  at  one 
time  Adam,  Abel,  Noah,  Moses,  Abraham,  David,  Rachel  and 
many  others  were  confined  there,  but  were  released  and  trans- 
ferred to  Paradise  by  '^  a  Mighty  One  (Christ)  at  his  triumphant 
entrance." 

Virgil  has  no  hope  that  he  and  his  heathen  brethren  will  be 
released  in  a  similar  manner  at  some  future  day.  Their  lot, 
however,  is  tolerable,  and  virtually  a  continuation  of  their  life  on 
earth.     The  poets  and  philosophers  sit  in  the  dim  twilight  of 

1  Inf.,  lY.,  25-30.  2  j,^y,^  iy_ ^  36,  3  j„j,  ^  j^y  ^  37.42. 


876  THE  DIYINA  COMMEDIA. 

reason,  continue  their  occupation,  and  are  very  courteous  and 
polite  to  each  other. 

Dante  sees  first  on  a  summit  enlightened  by  a  fire  the  shades 
of  Homer,  the  poet  sovereign,  Horace,  the  satirist,  Ovid  and 
Lucan.  They  respectfully  salute  Virgil  as  he  reappears  among 
them,  and  then  after  proper  introduction  they  salute  Dante  also, 
and  receive  him  as  the  sixth  in  the  distinguished  band  of  master 
poets/ 

Then  coming  into  "a  meadow  of  fresh  verdure,"  he  beholds 
in  a  place  open,  luminous  and  high,  a  company  of  the  mighty 
spirits  of  ancient  Greece  and  Rome,  walking  on  ^Hhe  green 
enamel.''  Electra,  Hector  and  ^neas,  Csesar  '^  in  armor,  with 
falcon  eyes,"  King  Latinus  with  his  daughter  Lavinia,  Brutus 
^'  who  drove  Tarquin  forth,"  Lucretia,  Julia,  Marcia,  and  Cor- 
nelia ;  and  associated  with  them,  but  in  a  separate  spot,  the  noble 
Saracen  knight  Saladin ;  and  higher  up  Aristotle,  "the  master 
of  those  who  know,"  surrounded  by  his  philosophic  family,  "all 
gazing  upon  him  and  doing  him  honor ; "  nearest  to  him  Socrates 
and  Plato;  and  after  them  Democritus,  "who  puts  the  world 
on  chance,"  Diogenes,  the  cynic,  Empedocles,  Thales,  Heraclitus, 
the  weeping  philosopher,  Dioscorides,  Orpheus,  Cicero  and  Livy, 
and  "moral  Seneca,"  Euclid,  the  geometrician,  Ptolemy,  the 
astronomer,  Galen,  the  physician,  Hippocrates,  Avicenna,  and 
Averrhoes,  the  Arabian  translator  and  commentator  of  Aristotle, 
and  many  others  whom  he  "  cannot  all  portray  in  full."  ^ 

As  for  the  bad  heathen  and  bad  Christians,  they  are  doomed 
to  fearful,  never  ending  torments,  which  Dante  describes  in 
picturesque,  but  horrible  forms. 

The  doctrine  of  eternal  punishment  is  the  most  awful  that  can 
be  conceived  of.  The  more  we  think  of  it,  the  more  we  shrink 
from  it,  and  the  more  we  desire  to  escape  from  it.  The  Roman 
Catholic  doctrine  of  Purgatory  applies  only  to  imperfect  Catholic 
Christians,  and  leaves  the  entire  heathen  world  to  outer  darkness 
and  despair.  The  theory  of  an  ultimate  restoration  of  all  human 
beings  to  holiness  and  happiness  would  give  absolute  relief,  and 
completely  restore  the  harmony  of  the  universe  and  the  con- 
cord of  all  the  discords  of  history,  but  it  is  not  sustained  by  the 

1  Inf.,  IV.,  67  sqq.  ^  j„j^^  jy_^  121-145. 


DIVINA  COMMEDIA.  377 

Bible  or  any  orthodox  Clmrch.  The  theory  of  the  anninilation 
of  rational  beings  made  in  the  image  of  God  and  redeemed  by 
the  blood  of  Christ  is  hard  enough,  but  not  nearly  as  revolting 
to  every  sentiment  of  sympathy  and  compassion,  as  the  doctrine 
of  never-ending  ])unishment.  It  is  difficult  to  conceive  that  an 
infinitely  wise  and  merciful  God  should  have  created  so  many 
beings  in  full  foreknowledge  of  such  a  terrible  fate.  But  we 
humbly  bow  before  the  highest  authority  of  Him  who  came  into 
this  world  for  the  express  purpose  to  save  it  from  sin  and 
perdition. 

There  is,  however,  good  scriptural  ground  for  a  very  serious 
modification  of  the  orthodox  doctrine  as  far  as  the  number  of 
the  lost  and  the  mode  of  their  punishment  are  concerned.  There 
is  no  Scripture  warrant  for  excluding  from  heaven  the  over- 
whelming majority  of  mankind,  i.e.,  not  only  all  bad  Christians, 
but  also  all  the  heathen,  Jews,  Mohammedans,  together  with 
their  unbaptized  (or,  in  Calvinistic  phraseology,  non-elect)  child- 
ren dying  in  infancy.  St.  Augustin,  who  exerted  more  influence 
upon  the  Creeds  of  Christendom  than  any  other  divine,  first 
clearly  taught  the  '^terrible  dogma  ^'  of  the  damnation  of  all 
unbaptized  infants,  though  he  reduces  their  sufferings  to  a  mini- 
mum. He  inferred  it  from  the  doctrine  of  the  absolute  neces- 
sity of  water  baptism  for  salvation,  which  he  based  upon  a  one- 
sided interpretation  of  John  3  :  5  and  Mark  16  :  16.  But  these 
passages  can  only  refer  to  those  who  come  within  the  reach  of 
the  visible  church  and  the  ordinary  means  of  grace.  We  are 
bound  to  these  means,  but  God  is  free  and  his  Spirit  can  work 
where,  wdien,  and  how  he  pleases  (John  3  :  8).  As  regards  child- 
ren dying  in  infancy  before  they  have  committed  any  actual 
transgression,  we  have  the  word  and  act  of  our  Saviour  who 
invited  them  to  his  arms,  blessed  them,  and  declared,  without 
any  reference  to  circumcision  or  baptism,  and  before  Christian 
baptism  was  instituted  or  could  be  exercised  :  ^^  Of  such  is  the 
Kingdom  of  God"  (Mark  10  :  13-16).  Here  is  a  firm  and 
immovable  ground  of  hope  for  all  bereaved  parents.  Surely 
there  is  nothing  in  the  Bible  rightly  interpreted  to  prevent,  and 
much,  very  much  to  encourage  the  charitable  hope  that  the 
overwhelming  mass  of  God's  creatures  made  in  his  own  image 


378  THE  DIVINA  COMMEDIA. 

and  redeemed  by  the  blood  of  his  Son,  will  ultimately  be  saved 
and  join  "the  great  multitude  which  no  man  can  number,  of  all 
nations,  and  kindreds,  and  people,  and  tongues''  (Rev.  vii :  9),  in 
the  praise  of  his  infinite  wisdom  and  love. 

THE  VESTIBULE. 
As  the  poets  enter  through  the  gate  of  despair  they  are  over- 
whelmed with  the  horrid  lamentations  of  the  lost. 

' '  There  sighs,  complaints,  and  ululations  loud 

Resounded  through  the  air  without  a  star, 

Whence  I,  at  the  beginning,  wept  thereat. 
Languages  diverse,  horrible  dialects. 

Accents  of  anger,  words  of  agony. 

And  voices  high  and  hoarse,  with  sound  of  hands 
Made  up  a  tumult  that  goes  whirling  on 

Forever  in  that  air  forever  black. 

Even  as  the  sand  doth,  when  the  whirlwind  breathes."^ 

The  description  reminds  one  of  the  fearful  words  of  the  ghost 
of  Hamlet's  father  who,  however,  was  not  in  Hell  but  only  in 
Purgatory. 

"I  am  thy  father's  spirit ; 
Doom'd  for  a  certain  term  to  walk  the  night, 
And  for  the  day  confiu'd  to  lasting  fires. 
Till  the  foul  crimes,  done  in  my  days  of  nature, 
Are  burnt  and  purg'd  away.     But  that  I  am  forbid 
To  tell  the  secrets  of  my  prison-house, 
I  could  a  tale  unfold,  whose  lightest  word 
Would  harrow  up  thy  soul,  freeze  thy  young  blood, 
Make  thy  two  eyes  like  stars  start  from  their  spheres. 
Thy  knotted  and  combined  locks  to  part. 
And  each  particular  hair  to  stand  on  end. 
Like  quills  upon  the  fretful  porcupine  ; 
But  this  eternal  blazon  must  not  be 
To  ears  of  flesh  and  blood." 

The  vestibule  or  outer  court  of  Hell  is  the  abode  of  the 
melancholy  crowd  of  cowards  and  indifferentists,  who  are  too  bad 
for  Heaven  and  too  good  for  Hell,  and  hence  spit  out  by  both 
in  disgust.  Dante  pours  upon  them  the  vial  of  his  scorching 
sarcasm,  of  which  he  was  a  perfect  master.  He  had  in  his  mind 
the  lukewarm  Laodiceans  who  were  neither  hot  nor  cold,  and 

1  Inf.,  III.,  22-30. 


THE   DIVIXA   COMMEDIA.  379 

whom  the  Lord  threatened  to  spew  out  of  his  mouth  (Rev.  iii. : 
15,  16).  The  iuliabitauts  of  the  Ante-Hell  lived  in  selfish 
indifference,  without  fame  or  infamy,  unconcerned  about  the 
great  moral  struggle  going  on  in  the  world.  Mercy  and  justice 
alike  disdain  them.  Hell  would  be  too  proud  to  receive  such 
guests  who  had  not  courage  enough  to  be  bad.  Their  names 
are  unknown,  lost  and  forgotten.-^  They  are  mingled  with  that 
caitiff  choir  of  angels  who  remained  neutral  in  the  great  rebellion 
of  Satan  against  God.  This  miserable  rabble  is  driven  by  an 
unceasingly  whirling  flag;  while  wasps  and  flies  sting  their 
naked  bodies.  Dante  is  surprised  at  their  large  number.  Virgil 
tells  him : 

"Let  us  not  speak  of  them,  but  look  and  pass."^ 

Yet  Dante  recognizes  the  shade  of  him, 

"Who  made  tlirougli  cowardice  the  great  refusal."' 

This  is  usually  referred  to  Pope  Coelestine  Y.  (elected  July  5, 
1294),  and  "the  great  refusal,^^  to  his  abdication  of  the  papacy 
(December  13,  1294) — an  event  which  had  never  occurred 
before.  He  was  a  saintly  monk,  but  ignorant  of  the  world  and 
human  nature.  Cardinal  Benedetto  Gaetano,  afterwards  Boni- 
face YIIL,  persuaded  him,  a  few  months  after  his  election,  to 
resign  the  highest  dignity  on  earth,  and  imprisoned  him,  to  pre- 
vent a  schism,  in  a  castle  near  Anagni,  where  he  died  (May  19, 
1296).  The  resignation  of  Coelestine  was  regarded  as  a  sublime 
act  of  self-denial  and  sacrifice,  for  which  he  was  canonized  by 
Clement  Y.,  in  1313. 

It  is  strange  that  the  first  person  whom  Dante  met  in  Hell 
should  be  a  pope ;  and  stranger  still,  that  it  should  be  such  an 
humble  and  innocent  pope  whom  he  exposes  to  contempt,  in 
direct  opposition  to  the  judgment  of  the  Church.  He  may  have 
looked  upon  the  resignation  as  an  act  of  cowardly  escape  from 
solemn  duty,  prompted  by  the  unholy  ambition  of  Pope  Boniface 

^  Like  that  tyrant  in  Uhland's  llinstrcVs  Curse  : 

"  Vcrsunkcn  und  vcrgcsscn  :  das  ist  dcs  Scingcrs  Fluch.^^ 

2  Inf.,  III.    51  : 

^^Non  ragioniam  di  lor,  ma  guarda  e passa.'''' 

3  Ihid.,  III.,  60: 

^^Chefcce per  viltate  il  gran  rifiuio.^^ 


880  THE  DIYIXA   COMMEDIA. 

YIII.,  whom  above  all  popes  he  hated  as  a  bad  man  and  a  disgrace 
to  the  papacy.-^     But  resignation  is  not  "  refusal." 

Some  have  conjectured  that  Dante  meant  Esau  who  sold  his 
birthright,  or  the  rich  youth  who  was  invited  by  Christ  to  follow 
him,  but  ^^  went  away  sorrowful "  (Matt.  xix. :  22).  But  '^  the 
great  refusal  "  points  to  a  historic  person  and  act  well  known  in 
the  time  of  the  poet  under  that  name. 

1  deem  it  most  probable  that  the  poet  had  in  mind  Pontius 
Pilate,  who  was  perfectly  convinced  of  the  innocence  of  Christ, 
but  from  cowardice  and  fear  of  losing  his  place  refused  to  do 
him  justice  and  surrendered  him  to  the  bloodthirsty  design 
of  the  Jewish  hierarchy.^  The  basest  act  a  judge  could  commit. 
Of  all  men  in  biblical  or  ecclesiastical  history,  Pilate  was  the 
fittest  representative  of  cowardly  and  selfish  neutrality.  He 
was  also  best  known  to  the  readers  of  the  Commedia,  as  his 
name  is  embedded  in  the  Apostles'  Creed  to  designate  the  his- 
toric connection  of  Christ's  death  with  the  Roman  empire. 
Dante  does  not  mention  Pontius  Pilate  elsewhere,  except  figur- 
atively by  calling  Philip  the  Fair  of  France  '^the  modern  Pilate," 
for  his  cowardly  cruelty  to  a  defenceless  old  pope.^ 

THE  STRUCTURE  OF  THE  INFERNO. 

From  the  Vestibule  the  poets  are  in  sleep  as  by  a  divine 
miracle  transported  across  the  cheerless  Acheron  to  the  Inferno 
proper.     I  shall  confine  myself  to  an  outline  of  the  pilgrimage. 

The  structure  of  the  Inferno,  as  already  observed,  is  that  of  a 
huge  subterranean  amphitheatre  in  the  shape  of  a  funnel, 
becoming  narrower  and  narrower  in  the  descent  till  it  reaches 
the  abode  of  Satan  in  the  centre  of  the  earth.  This  form 
corresponds  to  the  nature  and  progress  of  sin,  which  consists 
in  ever  narrowing  and  contracting  selfishness.  As  the  number 
of  slight  and  ordinary  sinners  is  larger  than  that  of  great  trans- 

^  In  Inf.,  XXVII.,  104,  105,  he  makes  Boniface  say  of  his  predecessor,  that 
he  despised  the  two  keys  of  the  papal  power. 

2  This  interpretation  as  far  as  I  know  is  new,  and  was  suggested  to  me 
recently  by  a  friend  in  a  conversation  on  Dante,  as  a  phiusible  conjecture.  I 
wonder  that  it  has  not  occurred  to  any  of  the  numerous  commentators  on 
Dante. 

3  Furg.  XX.,  91. 


SECTION    OF    THE    HELL. 


LUCIFER 


•^T. 


THE   DIYIXA   COMMEDIA.  381 

gressors,  the  upper  circles  are  broader  and  more  densely 
crowded. 

It  is  also  very  expressive,  that  over  these  regions  there  reigns 
a  constant  darkness^  growing  denser  with  the  depth.  Still,  a 
faint  gleam  of  light  overspreads  the  gloomy  terraces ;  and  the 
lower  portions  are  illumined  by  the  unquenchable  fire/  but  only 
to  increase  the  horror  of  the  damned  by  rendering  their  misery 
visible  to  them.  Thomas  Aquinas  teaches  that  the  inhabitants 
of  Hell  see  their  misery  ''sub  quadem  umbrositate.^^ 

Milton  describes  Hell  as 

"A  dungeon  horrible,  on  all  sides  around, 
As  one  great  furnace,  flam'd  ;  j^et  from  those  flames 
No  light,  but  rather  darkness  visible, 
Serv'd  only  to  discover  sights  of  woe, 
Kegions  of  sorrow,  doleful  shades,  where  peace 
And  rest  can  never  dwell,  lioj^e  never  comes 
That  comes  to  all,  but  torture  without  end 
Still  urges,  and  a  fiery  deluge,  fed 
"With  ever  burning  sulphur  unconsumed."^ 

In  consequence  of  the  meaning  of  the  number  three,  reaching 
as  it  does  even  to  the  lower  world,  Dante  divides  Hell  into  three 
regions,  each  one  comprising  three  terraces,  so  that  it  on  the  whole 
consists  of  nine  circles.  To  them  must  be  added  a  preliminary 
circle,  the  vestibule  of  Hell. 

The  regions  are  separated  from  one  another  by  the  windings 
of  a  large  stream,  which  flows  in  circles  through  Hell.  Of 
these  circular  windings  there  are  four.  The  first,  separating  the 
fore-court  from  Hell  properly  so  called,  is  the  joyless  Acheron; 
the  second,  the  marshy  Styx  ;  the  third,  the  burning  Phlegethon; 
and  the  fourth,  the  cold  Cocytus.  The  stream  ends  at  last  in 
an  icy  lake,  in  the  centre  of  which  sits  the  Devil.  This  is 
probably  intended  to  represent  the  stream  of  Belial,  mentioned 
in  2  Samuel  xxii. :  5,  as  encompassing  the  dead  in  Hell.  It 
rises,  according  to  Dante,  in  the  island  of  Crete,  from  the  conflu- 
ence of  all  the  tears  which  the  human  race  has  ever  wept  in 

^  Matt.  viii. :  12,  "  Cast  into  outer  darkness." 

2  Compare  Mark  ix. :  44  ;  Matt.  iii. :  12  ("  unquenchable  fire"). 

'  Far.  Lost,  Book  i.,  61  sqq. 


382  THE  DIVINA   COMMEDIA. 

consequence  of  sin,  and  will  yet  weep  during  the  different  ages 
of  its  existence,  which  increase  in  wickedness,  and  find  their 
representatives  in  these  four  streams. 

SIN  AND  PUNISHMENT. 

In  the  division  of  sins  our  poet  follows  Aristotle,  who  divides 
the  sins  into  three  classes;  namely,  incontinence  {axpaaia)^ 
wickedness  {y.axia)^  and  violence,  or  beastliness  ('>*>; />£or7j?).i  But, 
in  accordance  with  his  Christian  standpoint,  Dante  differs  from 
Aristotle  in  that  he  places  wickedness,  or  as  he  terms  it  cunning 
(froda)y  lowest  in  the  scale.  The  first  kind  of  sin,  that  of 
incontinence,  is  human ;  the  second,  violence,  is  bestial ;  tiie 
third,  cunning,  is  demoniacal.  Each  of  these  genera  comprises 
again  a  number  of  distinct  species.  Under  incontinence,  for 
example,  he  ranks  licentiousness,  avarice,  prodigality,  wrath, 
etc.;  under  violence  he  includes  murder,  Ijlasphemy.  etc.;  under 
cunning,  the  different  forms  of  treachery. 

The  punishments  of  the  damned  are,  according  to  Dante,  both 
spiritual  and  bodily.  The  spiritual  punishments  consist  chiefly 
in  an  impotent  hatred  towards  God,  in  envying  the  happy  con- 
dition of  the  blessed,  in  dissensions  among  themselves,  and  in  a 
continual  lust  for  sin  without  the  power  or  prospect  of  satisfying 
it.  This  everlasting  torment  expresses  itself  also  externally, 
and  Dante  exhausts  ingenuity  in  describing  the  bodily  punish- 
ments. 

In  doing  this  he  follows  the  general  principle  laid  down  in 
the  Book  of  Wisdom,  xi.,  17  :  "  Wherewithal  a  man  sinneth,  by 
the  same  also  shall  he  be  punished."  A  similar  thought  was 
supposed  to  be  implied  in  the  assertion  of  our  Lord :  "  With 
what  measure  ye  mete,  it  shall  be  measured  to  you  again  "  (Mark 
iv. :  24;  Luke  vi. :  38).  Sin  itself,  in  the  other  world,  is  the 
punishment  of  sin.  Sinners  flee  from  j)unishment,  but  desire 
the  sin;  the  desire  is  present,  but  its  satisfaction  is  unattainable; 
the  desire  itself  has  become  a  tormenting  sting. 

This  general  idea  of  a  close  connection  between  sin  and  the 
form  of  its  punishment  is,  however,  carried  out,  not  in  a  pedantic 
and  literal,  but  in  a  very  free  and  manifold  way.     The  lazy,  for 

^  Ethics,  VII.,  1. 


THE   DIVIXA   COMMEDIA.  383 

example,  roll  themselves  about  in  the  mire;  the  licentious  are 
driven  to  and  fro  by  a  whirlwind ;  the  irascible  smite  each  other 
in  the  muddy  Styx;  the  Archbishop  Ruggieri,  who  U})on  earth 
had  denied  food  to  Count  Ugolino,  is  doomed  to  have  his  head 
chewed  by  him  in  Hell. 

IMPARTIALITY  OF  DANTE. 

Dante  brings  together  a  variegated  mass  of  pictures  from  all 
ages  and  ranks.  Poets,  scholars,  philosophers,  heroes,  princes, 
emperors,  monks,  priests,  cardinals,  and  popes,  in  short,  all  that 
Truth  and  History,  Poetry  and  Mythology,  have  been  able  to 
afford  of  distinguished  sins  and  vices,  he  causes  to  pass  before  us, 
living,  speaking,  and  suffering,  until  overcome  with  horror  we 
feel  compelled  to  bow  before  the  terrible  justice  of  God,  to  whom 
every  sin  is  an  abomination.  There  is  opened  here  to  the  careful 
reader,  a  wide  field  of  the  most  interesting,  historical,  psycho- 
logical, metaphysical,  theological  and  edifying  observations.  No 
poet  has  ever  so  forcibly  and  graphically  described  the  sinfulness 
of  sin  and  the  well  deserved  terror  of  its  guilt. 

In  his  stern  impartiality  Dante  spares  neither  friends  nor  foes, 
neither  Ghibellines  nor  Guelfs,  neither  popes  nor  emperors,  and 
restrains  the  claims  of  mercy.  Pie  assigns  to  everlasting  woe 
Farinata  degli  Uberti,  the  most  valiant  and  renowned  leader 
of  the  Ghibellines  in  Florence  who  died  1261;^  Cavalcante  de' 
Cavalcanti,  the  father  of  his  most  intimate  friend,  Guido  Caval- 
canti;^  even  Brunetto  Latini,  his  own  beloved  teacher;^  and  the 
unfortunate  Francesca  da  Rimini,  a  near  relative  of  his  last 
patron,  Guido  da  Polenta,  under  whose  roof  he  died.^  She  is 
said  to  have  been  deceived  by  her  father  into  marrying  the 
deformed  and  repulsive  Gianciotto  Malatesta,  son  of  the  Lord 
of  Rimini,  while  she^loved  his  handsome  brother  Paolo,  and  was 

1  Inf.,  X.,  32sqq. 

2  IhicL  X.,  52  sqq.  He  was  a  Guelf  and  doomed  to  the  same  torment  with 
the  Ghibelline. 

3  Ihid.  XV.,  30  sqq. 

^  Ihid.  v.,  80  sqq.  She  was  either  an  aunt,  or  niece  of  Guido.  See  Nota 
A.,  in  Scartazzini's  La  Div.  Com.  i.,  45,  who  gives  the  reports  of  Boccaccio  and 
the  anonymous  Florentine  edited  by  Fanfani. 


384  THE  DIVINA   COMMEDIA. 

murdered  with  him  by  her  husband  during  tlie  lifetime  of 
Dante  (1289).  When  he  saw  her  he  was  moved  to  tears,  and 
when  he  heard  her  delicate  and  touching  tale  of  her  temptation 
by  reading  a  romantic  love  story,  he  ^'  for  pity  swooned  away  as 
if  he  had  been  dying,  and  fell,  even  as  a  dead  body  falls,"  ^  He 
would  have  sent  the  guilty  couple  to  Purgatory  if  they  had  had 
time  to  repent  of  their  illicit  love.  But  it  was  too  late,  too  late ! 
And  so  they  have  to  feel  that  ^'  there  is  no  greater  sorrow  than 
to  be  mindful  of  the  happy  time  in  misery."  Poor  Francesca  is 
the  only  Christian  woman  whom  he  branded  ;  the  other  females 
whom  he  locates  in  the  same  region  of  despair,  are  all  heathen — 
Semiramis,  Dido,  Plelen,  and  ^^  the  voluptuous  Cleopatra;"^  and 
so  are  the  women  located  in  the  eighth  circle  of  HelL^  It 
would  have  been  far  more  consistent  with  justice  if  he  had  substi- 
tuted for  the  relation  of  his  patron  those  infamous  Roman 
araazons — Marozia  and  Theodora — who  during  the  period  of 
the  papal  ^'  pornocracy  "  placed  their  paramours  and  bastards  on 
the  throne  of  St.  Peter  and  dragged  the  papacy  down  to  the 
lowest  depth  of  depravity.     But  they  are  ignored. 

THE  NINE  CIRCLES  OF  HELL. 

Let  US  briefly  survey  the  nine  circles  of  Dante's  Inferno.^ 

1.  The  first  circle  is  the  moderate  hell  for  the  least  guilty 
class  of  sinners  who  were  ignorant  of  Christianity  and  deprived 
of  the  benefit  of  baptism,  yet  are  included  among  the  lost  in 
consequence  of  Adam's  fall.^  It  is  the  border  region  or  Limbo, 
which  was  formerly  divided  into  the  Limhus  Infantum  for 
unbaptized  infants  whose  sighs  cause  the  air  to  tremble,  and  the 
Limhus  Patt'um,  the  temporary  prison  of  the  pious  souls  from 
Adam  to  John  the  Baptist,  who  died  in  the  hope  of  the  coming 
Saviour,  but  were  transferred  to  Paradise  when  Christ  descended 

1  Ibid,  v.,  140-142.  2  jjj^   y^  58  sqq. 

3  Thais,  the  fomous  courtesan  of  Athens,  Inf.,  xviii.,  130  sqq.  ;  Hecuba, 
Polyxena,  and  "  tlie  nefarious  Myrrha  who  became,  beyond  all  rightful  love, 
her  father's  lover,"  ibid.  XXX.,  16  sqq.;  38  sqq. 

^  A  minute  description  with  suitable  illustrations  would  require  a  volume. 
I  may  refer  to  the  works  of  Professor  Botta,  Francesca  Kossetti,  and  Dr. 
Hettinger,  who  give  large  extracts  from  the  poem  itself     See  Lit. ,  p.  333,  335. 

^  See  p.  37.")  sf]. 


THE   DIVIXA   COMMEDIA.  385 

and  proclaimed  to  them  the  accomplished  redemption.  Their 
place  is  occupied  by  the  great  poets,  sages,  statesmen,  and  heroes 
of  ancient  Greece  and  Kome  who  lived  up  to  the  dim  light  of 
natural  reason  and  conscience.  The  wicked  heathen  are  dis- 
tributed among  the  impenitent  Christians. 

The  Limbo  is  not  a  place  of  actual  suffering,  but  ratiier  corre- 
sponds to  the  Pagau  Elysium.  The  distiuguished  heathen  lead 
there  a  dreamy  life  of  longing  and  desire,  without  hope,  vainly 
groping  in  the  dark  after  the  unknown  God.  They  still  move 
in  the  element  of  worldly  ambition,  according  to  the  maxim  of 
Cicero  :  "  Optimus  quisque  maxime  gloria  ducitur.^^  They  seek 
honor  and  take  honor,  and  constantly  compliment  each  other. 
They  look  grave  with  an  air  of  great  authority,  but  speak 
seldom  and  with  gentle  voices.  Dante  was  seized  with  grief  to 
see  among  them  persons  of  great  worth  ;  but  the  orthodox 
theology  did  not  allow  him  to  entertain  any  hope  of  their  ulti- 
mate deliverance.     ^'  Lasciate  ogni  speranza  !  ^^ 

2.  The  Second  Circle  is  the  proper  commencement  of  Hell; 
and  Minos,  the  infernal  Judge,  watches  at  the  entrance.  It  con- 
tains the  souls  of  carnal  sinners  who  are  driven  by  fierce  winds 
in  total  darkness.  Here  are  the  adulterous  and  voluptuous 
women,  from  Semiramis  and  Cleopatra  to  Fraucesca  da  Rimini 
among  the  poet's  contemporaries.     Canto  v.-^ 

3.  The  Third  Circle  is  inhabited  by  epicures  and  gluttons, 
whose  god  is  their  belly.  They  are  lying  on  the  ground 
exposed  to  a  constant  shower  of  hail,  foul  water  or  snow, 
and  to  the  barking  of  the  three-headed  monster  Cerberus. 
Canto  YI. 

On  the  brink  of  the  next  Circle  the  poets  find  Plutus,  the  god 
of  riches,  who  swells  with  rage  when  he  sees  strangers  invade 
his  realm,  but  is  sharply  reproved  by  A^irgil. 

4.  The  Fourth  Circle  is  intended  for  the  prodigal  and  avari- 
cious doomed  to  roll  large  dead  weights  forwards  and  back- 
wards. Among  them  are  many  popes  and  tonsured  clergymen. 
Canto  VII. 

^  This  canto  is  the  most  popular  in  the  whole  poem  and  has  often  been 
separately  translated.  K.  Kohler  published  twenty-two  German  translations 
from  1763-1863.     See  Lit.,  p.  334,  and  p.  383  sq. 

25 


386  THE   DIYIXA   COMMEDIA. 

5.  The  Fifth  Circle  is  approached  by  a  broad  marsh  and  cod- 
tains  the  filthy  spirits  of  brutal  arrogance  and  wrath.  Dante 
recognizes  among  them  Filippo  Argenti,  a  worthless  man  of 
irascible  temper,  Herculean  strength  and  immense  wealth,  whose 
riding  horse  was  shod  with  silver  (argento).  He  was  of  the  Neri 
faction  in  Florence,  and  seems  to  have  provoked  the  animosity 
of  Dante,  who  belonged  to  the  Bianchi.     Canto  viii. 

The  first  five  Circles  constitute  the  Upper  Hell  of  Inconti- 
nence.    We  descend  now  to  the  Lower  Hell  of  Malice. 

6.  The  Sixth  Circle  is  the  dreary  City  of  Dis  or  Lucifer,  full 
of  burning  sepulchres  open  on  the  top.  Here  heretics  and  in- 
fidels are  punished.  Cantos  viii,  76  sqq.-xi.  Among  them  are 
very  distinguished  persons,  the  valiant  Ghibelline  chief,  Fari- 
nata  of  Florence,  Cavalcante  de'  Cavalcanti  (Farinata's  son-in- 
law,  and  father  of  Dante's  most  intimate  friend,  Guido  Caval- 
oanti),  the  Ghibelline  Cardinal  Ottaviano  degli  Ubaldini,  of 
Florence,  who  said,  '^if  there  be  any  soul,  I  have  lost  mine  for 
the  Ghibellines,"  and  the  liberal  and  accomplished  Hohenstaufen 
Emperor  Frederick  IL,  to  whom  Avas  ascribed  the  fabulous 
book  on  The  Three  Impostors  (Moses,  Jesus,  Mohammed).-^  It 
is  strange  that  Dante  omits  the  far  more  notorious  arch-heretics 
of  the  ancient  church,  as  Marcion,  Manichseus,  Arius,  Nestorius, 
Pelagius,  etc.  But  he  wished  to  strike  with  his  lightning  the 
summits  of  Italian  history  still  within  the  memory  of  his  gen- 
eration. 

To  them  he  adds  a  supreme  pontiff.  On  the  edge  of  a  rocky 
precipice  between  the  Sixth  and  Seventh  Circle  he  found  a  large 
monument  with  an  inscription :  "Anastasius  I  hold  whom  Photinus 
drew  from  the  straight  way.''^  He  means  Anastasius  IL,  an 
obscure  pope,  who  ruled  only  two  years  (496-498),  and  is  re- 
})orted  to  have  received  the  monophysitic  deacon,  Photinus  of 
Thessalonica,  into  church  communion.  For  this  he  was  himself 
branded  as  a  heretic  in  the  famous  Decretum  Gratiani,  and  so 

^  Comp.  above  p.  307.  In  his  book  De  Vulg.  Eloquio,  i.,  12,  Dante  speaks 
highly  of  Frederick's  literary  merits. 

2/n/.,  XL,  8,  9: 

^^  Anasfasio papa  giiardo, 
Lo  qual  trasse  Fotin  dclla  via  dritta.''^ 


TPIE  DIYINA   COMMEDIA.  387 

considered  in  the  Church  down  to  the  sixteenth  century.^  He 
died  suddenly,  and  this  was  construed  as  a  divine  judgment. 

Dante  no  doubt  followed  the  authority  of  Gratian,  the  great 
teacher  of  the  canon  law  at  Bologna.  He  might  have  selected 
clearer  and  stronger  examples  of  heretical  popes,  as  Liberius 
(352-366),  who  was  charged  with  Arianism,  and  Honorius  1 
(625-638),  who  was  condemned  by  cecuiiienical  councils  and  by 
his  own  successors  as  a  Monothelite.  The  case  of  Honorius 
figured  most  prominently  in  the  Vatican  Council  of  1870,  and 
was  the  chief  argument  of  the  anti-infallibilists.^ 

7.  The  Seventh  Circle  (Cantos  xii.-xiv.),  in  three  divisions, 
is  the  abode  of  murderers,  suicides  and  blasphemers,  and  is  sur- 
rounded by  a  river  of  blood.  The  way  to  it  leads  through  a 
wild  chasm  of  shattered  rocks.  It  is  guarded  by  the  Minotaur, 
the  horror  of  Crete  and  emblem  of  bloodthirsty  violence  and 
brutality.  Among  the  murderers  are  mentioned  Alexander  the 
Great,  the  tyrant  Dionysius  of  Sicily,  Guy  de  Montfort,  wdio 
during  mass  stabbed  Prince  Henry  from  revenge,  and  Attila,  the 
King  of  the  Huns,  who  called  himself  the  Scourge  of  God. 

Among  the  suicides,  naked  and  torn,  is  Pietro  delle  Vigne  (de 
Vineis),  the  famous  secretary  and  chancellor  of  the  Emperor 
Frederick  II.,  otherwise  a  noble-hearted  man,  wdio  was  charged 
with  treason  and  was  unwilling  to  outlive  his  honor. 

The  small  class  of  blasphemers  against  God  are  lying  supine 
upon  a  plain  of  burning  sand.  They  are  more  severely  punished 
than  their  neighbors,  by  a  slow  and  constant  shower  of  flakes  of 
fire,  which  fall  upon  them  like  flakes  of  snow  in  the  Alps;  yet 
they  continue  to  blaspheme  with  their  old  fury.  (Canto  XIY.) 
Their  representative  is  Capeneus,  one  of  the  seven  kings  who 
besieged  Thebes.     He  was  struck  by  Jupiter  with  his  thunder. 

' '  Not  any  torment,  saving  tliine  own  rage, 

Would  be  unto  thy  fury  pain  complete."  ^ 

Cantos  XV.  and  xvi.  describe  the  punishment  of  violence 
against  nature.     Here  Dante  does  not  spare  his  own  teacher  and 

^  See  a  full  account  of  this  case  in  Dullinger's  Papstfaheln  des  3Iittclalters, 
J).  124  sqq. ;  Eng.  transl.  210  sqq. 

2  Schafif,  Creeds  of  Christendom,  I.,  178  sqq  ;  Church  History,  IV.,  500  sqq. 
3Jn/.,  XIV.,  65,  66. 


388  THE   DIVINA   COMMEDIA. 

friend,  Brunetto  Latin i  (xv.,  30  sqq.),  bat  he  speaks  to  his 
baked  and  withered  figure  with  great  respect  and  affection. 

Canto  XVII.  describes  the  punishment  of  usurers  who  do 
violence  to  nature  and  to  art. 

We  now  descend  to  the  sins  of  bestiality. 

8.  The  Eighth  Circle,  called  the  Malebolge^  or  Evil-budgets, 
consists  of  ten  concentric  ditches  or  pits  for  the  following  sinners: 
(1)  Seducers,  (2)  Flatterers,  (3)  Simoniacs,  (4)  Soothsayers,  (5) 
Barrators,  (6)  Plypocrites,  (7)  Thieves,  (8)  Evil  Counselors,  (9) 
Schismatics,  (10)  Falsifiers.     Cantos  xviii.-xxxi. 

Dante  is  especially  severe,  in  Canto  xix.,  against  the  Simoniacs 
or  Simonists,  that  is,  the  wretched  followers  of  the  arch-heretic 
and  arch-hypocrite,  Simon  Magus,  who  prostitute  for  gold  and 
silver  the  things  of  God,  and  turn  his  temple  into  a  den  of 
thieves.  They  are  fixed  one  by  one  in  narrow  round  holes  along 
the  sides  of  the  rock,  with  the  head  downwards,  with  the  feet 
and  part  of  the  legs  standing  out  and  tormented  with  flames. 

At  the  bottom  of  the  chasm  are  three  popes,  Nicholas  III.  (d. 
1281),  who  enriched  all  his  nephews  by  open  simony;  Boniface 
VIIL,  who  ^^seized  the  comely  Lady  (the  Church)  and  then  made 
havoc  of  her''  (d.  1303),  and  Clement  Y.  (d.  1314),  "the  lawless 
shepherd  from  the  west"  (who  was  made  pope  under  shameful 
conditions  by  the  influence  of  Philip  the  Fair,  of  France). 
The  last  two  Dante  condemns  by  prophetic  anticipation  before 
their  death  (as  the  Inferno  was  begun  in  1300).  Such  false 
shepherds  St.  John  had  in  view  when  he  saw  the  Roman 
harlot  committing  fornication  with  the  kings.   (Rev.  xvii :  1-15.) 

' '  Ye  have  made  yourselves  a  god  of  gold  and  silver  ; 
And  from  the  idolater  wherein  do  ye  cliifer, 
Save  that  he  worships  one,  and  ye  a  hundred  ?  "  ^ 

Then  follows  the  famous  passage  of  Constantine  and  his 
reputed  donation  of  the  temporal  power  to  the  pope. 

This  fearful  severity  does  not  make  Dante  an  enemy  of  the 
papacy.  On  the  contrary,  he  says  that  his  reverence  for  the 
lofty  keys  prevented   him  from   using   still   greater   severity.^ 

^  Bolfjin  (Lat.  hxilgn,  Fr.  hougc)  means  a  bag,  budget,  aud  iu  a  -wider  sense 
any  dark  bole  or  gulf. 

2  Inf.,  XIX.,  112-114.  '  Ibid.  XIX.,  100  sq. 


THE  DIYINA  COMMEDIA.  389 

Even  Thomas  Aquinas,  his  theological  master,  says  that  the 
pope,  like  any  other  mortal,  may  fall  into  the  vice  of  simony, 
and  his  guilt  is  all  the  greater,  the  higher  his  position  as  the 
supreme  disposer,  not  possessor,  of  the  property  of  the  Church.^ 
Among  the  sowers  of  scandal  and  schism  are  Mohammed  and 
Ali,  fearfully  mutilated,  and 

"  Cleft  in  the  face  from  forelock  unto  cliin."^ 

9.  The  Ninth  and  last  Circle  is  the  abode  of  traitors,  furthest 
removed  from  the  source  of  all  light  and  heat,  the  frozen  lake 
of  Cocytus.  Cantos  xxxii.-xxxiv.  Cold  is  expressive  of 
the  heartless  selfishness  of  treason,  and  to  a  southern  imagina- 
tion, like  Dante's,  as  severe  a  punishment  as  a  burning  furnace 
would  be  to  a  Scandinavian  poet.  He  divides  the  circle  into  four 
concentric  rings  or  belts,  corresponding  to  four  classes  of  traitors  : 
(1)  Caina  for  traitors  to  blood  relations,  called  after  Cain  who 
murdered  his  brother.  (2)  Antenora  for  the  traitors  to  their 
country,  from  Antenor  who  betrayed  his  native  Troy.  (3) 
Ptolemsea  for  the  traitors  to  confidants,  either  from  Ptolemy  the 
Egyptian  king  who  betrayed  Pompey  when  he  fled  to  him  for 
protection,  or,  more  probably,  from  Ptolemy  who  treacherously 
slew  Simon,  the  high  priest,  and  his  two  sons  at  a  feast,  1  Mace, 
xvi.  :  15-17.  (4)  Judecca  for  traitors  to  their  benefactors, 
called  after  Judas  Iscariot. 

Dante  finds  many  Florentines  in  the  first  two  rings,  both 
Guelfs  and  Ghibellines.  He  especially  detests  Bocca  degli 
Abati,  who  by  his  treachery  caused  the  slaughter  of  the  Guelfs 
at  the  battle  of  Monte  Aperto,  in  1260,  and  threw  every  family 
of  Florence  into  mourning. 

But  the  most  horrible  scene  in  the  Antenora,  and  the  whole 
poem,  is  the  punishment  of  Count  Ugolino,  Podesta  of  Pisa  and 
chief  of  the  Guelfs,  and  Archbishop  Puggieri,  chief  of  the 
Ghibellines.^  The  count  betrayed  the  Ghibellines  in  12S4, 
and  united  wath  the  archbishop  in  1288  in  betraying  Judge 
Nino,  his  own  grandson,  but  was  betrayed  in  turn  by  the  arch- 
bishop, thrown   into    prison    with    two  innocent   sons  and  two 

1  Summa,  li.,  ii.,  q.  100,  a.  1  a.  2,  quoted  by  Hettinger,  p.  166,  191. 

2  Ibid,  xxviii.,  33.  '  hif.,  xxxiL,  124  ;  xxxiii.,  75. 


390  THE  DIVINA  COMMEDIA. 

grandsons  and  starved  to  death  in  a  tower  at  Pisa,  called  ever 
since  ^'  the  Tower  of  Famine.'^  The  two  traitors  "  are  frozen 
together  in  one  hole  so  closely  that  one  head  was  a  cap  to  the 
other;  and  as  bread  is  chewed  for  hunger,  so  the  uppermost  put 
his  teeth  into  the  other  where  the  brain  joins  with  the  nape/^ 
Dante  saw  Ugolino  as  he  raised  "  his  mouth  from  the  fell  repast 
and  wiped  it  on  the  hair  of  the  head  he  had  laid  waste  behind." 
The  count  tells  the  poet  his  last  sufferings  in  the  prison  when 
he  bit  both  his  hands  for  grief,  and  his  sons,  thinking  that  he 
did  it  from  hunger,  said  to  him  : 

"  Father,  much  less  pain  't  will  give  us 
If  thou  do  eat  of  us  ;  thyself  didst  clothe  us 
With  this  poor  flesh,  and  do  thou  strip  it  off. ' ' 

This  tragedy,  immortalized  by  Dante  and  Chaucer,  gives  a 
frightful  picture  of  the  ambition,  treachery,  cruelty  and  ferocity 
of  the  Middle  Ages,  and  illustrates  the  law,  that  sin  is  its  own 
worst  punishment. 

The  thirty-fourth  and  last  Canto  of  the  Inferno  opens  with 

"  Vex'dla  Regis  prodeunt  Inferni!'^ 

' '  The  banners  of  the  King  of  Hell  come  forth. ' ' 

A  parody  of  the  hymn  of  triumph  on  the  mystery  of  the  cross 
by  Fortunatus.-^  It  is  a  startling  introduction  into  the  Judecca, 
the  circle  of  the  arch-traitor  to  God,  the  traitor  to  our  Saviour, 
and  the  traitors  to  Csesar. 

Lucifer  /'  the  Emperor  of  the  dolorous  Realm,"  ^  is  described 
as  a  hideous  monster,  immersed  in  the  icy  lake  up  to  his  breast. 
He  had  three  faces,  the  counterpart  of  the  Holy  Trinity,  the  one 
fiery  red  in  front,  the  others  pale  and  black  on  the  side.  The 
three  colors  may  symbolize  the  three  continents  then  known  over 
which  his  dominion  extends.  Under  each,  face  issued  forth  two 
mighty  wings  broader  than  sea-sails,  in  form  and  texture  like  a 
bat's;  and  he  was  flapping  them  so  that  three  winds  went  forth 

^  ^^Vexilla  Regis  prodnmi, 
FuJget  crucis  mysleriion, 
Quo  came  carnis  eondifor, 
Su.'<pcnsus  estpaiihuJo.''^ 
^  ^^  Lo  Impcrador  del  dolorosa  regno.''''     XXXIV.,  28. 


THE  DIYIXA  COM^EEDIA.  391 

from  him.  AVitli  six  eyes  he  wept,  and  down  three  chins  gushed 
tears  and  bloody  foam.  In  every  mouth  he  champed  a  sinner 
with  his  teeth,  like  a  brake,  so  that  he  thus  kept  three  of  them 
in  torment.  The  worst  of  these  three  sinners,  who  suffers  great- 
est punishment,  is  Judas  Iscariot.  He  is  suspended  from  the 
front  mouth  of  Satan  and  has  his  head  within,  his  feet  outside. 
The  other  two,  with  their  heads  beneath,  are  Brutus,  who  "utters 
not  a  word,'^  and  Cassius,  "  who  seems  so  stark  of  limb." 

Shakespeare  differs  with  Dante  in  the  judgment  of  Brutus, 
"the  noblest  Roman  of  them  all,"  who  loved  his  country  and 
the  freedom  of  the  Republic  more  than  his  benefactor.  But 
Dante  saw  in  the  murder  of  Ca}sar  an  assault  upon  the  divinely 
constituted  Roman  empire,  which  was  the  type  of  the  holy 
Roman  empire,  and  the  words  of  the  dying  Csesar  to  Brutus: 
*'  Even  thou,  my  child"  (za>  (to,  -iy.yirJ)^  may  have  reminded  him 
of  our  Saviour's  word  to  Judas  :  "  Friend,  do  that  for  which  thou 
art  come"  [iraipt,  ^v'-'  o  -dp-i,  Matt.  26  :  50).  Here  is  the  culmin- 
ation of  Dante's  view  of  Church  and  State  as  developed  in  his 
book  De  Monarchia.  Judas  sinned  against  the  Divine  Head 
of  the  Church,  Brutus  and  Cassius  sinned  against  the  temporal 
head  of  the  Imperial  State,  all  sinned  against  God  and  humanity. 

The  triple-headed  Satan  with  three  sinners  in  his  mouth  cor- 
responds to  the  grotesque  demons  in  mediaeval  art.  He  is  abso- 
lutely hideous,  without  one  noble  feature  remaining.  Pie  thus 
differs  widely  from  Milton's  "  archangel  ruined,"  "  in  shape  and 
gesture  proudly  eminent/'  whose  "form  had  not  yet  lost  all  his 
original  brightness."^  Goethe  abstains  from  a  description  of  the 
outward  form  of  Mephistopheles,  but  describes  his  character  in 
words  and  actions  more  philosophically  than  Dante  or  Milton: 

"  Ich  bin  ei)i  Tliell  von  jencr  Kraft, 
Die  stets  d((s  B'Ose  ici'Il  und  stcts  das  Gate  schafff ; 
Ich  hui  der  Geist  der  stets  verneint.'" 

Having  reached  the  lowest  depth  of  Hell,  Yirgil,  bearing 
Dante,  slides  down  the  shaggy  sides  of  Beelzebub  between  the 
tangled  hair  and  frozen  crusts,  and  passing  through  a  cavern,  the 
poets  ascend  to  the  opposite  side  of  the  earth,  in  the  South  Pacific 
Ocean. 

"  Thence  we  came  forth  to  rebeliold  the  stars." 
^Comp.  Farad.  Lost,  i.,  192,  589;  ii.,  63G  ;  iv.,  985. 


392  THE   DIVIXA   COMMEDIA. 


THE   PURGATORIO. 

What  a  chaDge  from  the  region  of  eternal  darkness  to  the 
sight  of  the  sun  and  starry  firmament,  and  from  the  despair  of 
the  lost  to  the  hope  of  the  saved  !  Purgatory  is  the  temporary 
abode  of  the  penitent  who  died  in  the  grace  of  God,  and  look 
for  that  perfect  peace  which  awaits  them  after  completing  the 
process  of  sanctification.-^  Still  it  is  a  place  of  suffering,  and  so 
far  of  dread.  All  pious  Catholics  expect  to  go  there,  with 
mingled  fears  and  hopes,  and  none  considers  himself  fit  for 
the  company  of  saints  in  light.  Even  popes  are  not  exempt ; 
their  title  ^^  Holiness''  applies  only  to  their  official  character; 
})ersonally  they  may  be  very  unholy.  Pope  Pius  IX.,  by  an 
inscription  on  his  coffin,  requested  the  faithful  to  pray  for  his 
soul  {Orate  pro  me).  The  suffering  church  in  Purgatory  is  in 
constant  contact  with  the  militant  church  on  earth  by  prayers 
and  masses  for  the  dead. 

In  Purgatory  all  is  human,  and  appeals  to  our  sympathy :  a 
mingling  of  weakness  and  sorrow  v/ith  virtue  and  hope,  of  the 
tears  of  repentance  with  the  joys  of  forgiveness,  of  prayers  and 
supplications  with  hymns  of  praise,  of  constant  effort  with  the 
brightening  prospect  of  ultimate  purity  and  deliverance. 

Dante's  Purgatory  is  a  steep,  spherical  mountain  in  the  West- 
ern Hemisphere,  which,  according  to  the  original  plan  of  Provi- 
dence was  to  have  been  the  abode  of  the  human  race.  It  is 
the  highest  mountain  in  the  world.  Its  summit  is  crowned 
w^ith  the  terrestrial  Paradise,  out  of  which  Adam  was  thrust 
on  account  of  his  transgression.  It  is  the  direct  antipode  of 
Sion,  the  mountain  of  salvation,  on  the  inhabited  hemisphere, 
and  at  the  same  time  the  threshold  of  Heaven.  Both  moun- 
tains rise,  in  a  direct  line,  above  the  middle  point  of  Hell. 
Christ,  the  second  Adam,  has  again  recovered,  by  his  death 
upon  Golgotha,  the  Paradise  which  was  lost  by  the  sin  of  the 
first  Adam.  But  the  way  now  leads  through  Purgatory,  i.  e., 
through  the  deep  knowledge  of  sin,  and  the  purifying  pains 
of  penitence. 

At  the  foot  of  the  mountain  of  purification  Dante  meets 
Cato  of  Utica,  the  Stoic  friend  of  liberty,  who  committed 
^  Purg.,  III.,  73  sqq. 


THE     PURGATORY. 

^  LOVE  EXCESSIVE  p^'"7~^~i^^  3    CLASSES  "^ 

^LOVE  DEEECTIVE  fetj^^  1   CLASS  ^^ 

^LOVE  DISTOIlTED^»^-~  hi^J^Q^^^S  CL AS SE  S  ,^ 


THE  DIVIXA  COMMEDIA.  393 

suicide  that  he  might  not  survive  the  Romau  Republic.  lie  is 
described  as  a  solitary  old  man  with  a  venerable  aspect,  long 
gray  beard  and  double  lock.  He  is  the  guardian  of  Purgatory, 
and  the  only  heathen  who  escaped  the  eternal  prison,  except  the 
Emperor  Trajan. i  He  wonders  at  the  a})pearance  of  Virgil, 
who  assures  him  that  he  came  not  of  his  own  accord,  but  at  the 
behest  of  Beatrice.  By  his  direction,  Virgil  must  first  wash 
from  Dante's  face  the  tilth  of  Hell,  and  gird  him  with  a  smooth 
rush  (the  symbol  of  humility).  Then  an  angel,  the  direct  re- 
verse of  the  dreadful  Charon,  who  conducted  the  dead  across 
Acheron,  brings  them  in  a  light  bark  to  the  opposite  shore. 

Purgatory  has,  like  Hell,  a  vestibule  where  all  those  are  re- 
quired to  tarry,  who  have  postponed  repentance  while  upon  earth 
to  the  last  moment.  An  angel  escorts  the  v/anderers  over  three 
stairs,  which  represent  the  three  stages  of  penitence  (contritlo, 
confessio,  and  saiisfactio),  through  the  gate  of  absolution,  and,  in 
order  that  he  may  think  upon  the  seven  mortal  sins,  cuts  the 
letter  P  [i^cccata)  seven  times  upon  his  forehead  with  his  sword. ^ 

The  mountain  itself  has  seven  broad  terraces  cut  into  its 
sides,  and  on  these  dwell  the  penitent.  The  different  penances 
correspond  with  the  punishments  of  Hell,  in  inverted  order.  la 
Hell  Dante  descended  from  the  lesser  to  the  greater  transgres- 
sions; in  Purgatory  he  leads  us  from  the  greater  sins  and 
penances  upward  to  those  of  less  enormity.  The  sins  for  which 
penance  is  done  here,  are  the  same  which  are  punished  there; 
but  with  this  difference,  that  there  we  have  to  do  with  obdurate 
and  impenitent  sinners,  here  with  contrite  souls.  As  in  Hell, 
sin  and  punishment,  so  in  Purgatory,  sin  and  penance,  stand  in  a 
causal  relation  toward  one  another;  but  the  relation  here  is  one 
of  opposition,  sin  being  destroyed,  since  the  will  is  brought  to 
break  and  yield,  in  direct  contrariety  to  what  it  was  before. 

The  proud,  who  fill  the  first  and  lowest  terrace,  are  compelled 
to  totter  under  huge  weights,  in  order  that  they  may  learn  humil- 
ity. The  indolent  in  the  fourth  terrace  are  constantly  and  rap- 
idly walking.  In  the  fifth,  the  avaricious  and  prodigal,  their 
hands  and  feet  tied  together,  lie  with  their  faces  in  the  dust,  weep- 
ing and  wailing.  In  the  sixth,  the  gluttons  must,  like  Tantalus, 
^  See  above,  p.  349.  ^  Purg.,  IX.,  93  sqq. ;  102  sqq. 


394  THE  DIVIXA  COMMEDIA. 

suffer  hunger  and  thirst,  in  sight  of  a  tree  richly  laden  with 
fruits,  and  of  a  fresh  flowing  fountain,  until  they  have  learned 
moderation.  In  the  seventh,  the  licentious  wander  about  in 
flames,  that  their  sensual  passions  may  be  purged  from  them  by 
fire. 

At  the  entrance  into  every  circle  the  angel  who  conducts  them 
obliterates  one  of  the  P's  upon  the  forehead  of  the  poet.  In  the 
same  measure  also  his  ascent  becomes  easier  at  every  terrace. 
In  place  of  the  fearful  darkness  of  the  Inferno  he  is  here  lighted 
on  his  way  by  the  three  stars  of  the  theological  virtues.  Faith, 
Hope,  and  Love.  In  place  of  the  heart-rending  lamentations 
of  the  damned,  he  hears  the  Lord's  Prayer,  the  prayers  to  the 
saints  and  the  ever  sweeter  sounding  hymns  of  Salvation,  as 
sung  by  the  souls  which  are  longingly  gazing  toward  Paradise, 
and  step  by  step  approach  nearer  to  its  confines.  At  the 
beginning  of  the  eleventh  Canto  we  hear  a  most  beautiful 
paraphrase  of  the  Pater  Noster  from  the  mouth  of  the  proud 
who  have  to  become  as  little  children  of  the  Father  in  heaven 
before  they  can  enter  the  kingdom  of  heaven  (Matt,  xviii.,  3).^ 
Whenever  a  soul  has  completed  its  purification  a  trembling  of 
the  whole  mountain  announces  its  entrance  into  heaven.^ 

Havinoj  reached  the  Terrestrial  Paradise  on  the  summit  of  the 
mountain,  Dante  sees  in  a  great  vision  the  Church  triumphant, 
under  the  image  of  a  triumphal  car  drawn  by  a  griffin,  a 
fabulous  animal,  half  eagle,  half  lion,  which  symbolizes  the 
double  nature  of  Christ,  the  Head  of  the  Church.  The  mystery 
of  the  incarnation  and  the  cross  had  been  explained  to  hira 
previously  by  Beatrice  (in  Canto  vii.,  19  sqq.). 

Beatrice  now  descends  from  Heaven  and  appears  to  Dante  in 
the  triumphal  car.  She  takes  the  place  of  Virgil,  who  is  not 
j)ermitted  to  tread  the  Courts  of  Heaven.  She  rebukes  Dante  in 
strong  language  for  his  sins,  and  exhorts  him  to  bathe  in  the 

^  "  0  Padre  nostro,  die  ne^cicH  stai, 

JVon  circonscritto,  ma  per  pi  a  amore, 
Che  ai  primi  ejfeiti  di  lassii  tu  hai,^^  etc. 
2  Piirg.,  XXI.,  58  sqq. 

"It  trembles  here,  whenever  any  sovil 

Feels  itself  pure,  so  that  it  soars,  or  moves 

To  mount  aloft,  and  such  a  cry  attends  it."  (Luke  xv.,  10.) 


THE  DIVIXA  COMMEDIA.  395 

brook  Lethe,  that  lie  may  forget  all  evil  and  all  past  afflictions. 
A  second  vision  displays  to  him  the  corruption  of  the  Church. 
Beatrice  prophesies  its  restoration,  and  causes  him  to  drink  con- 
version from  the  brook  Eunoe,  whereby  he  becomes  ca])able  of 
rising  upward  to  Heaven. 

THE   rARADISO. 

Lightly  now,  as  upon  the  wings  of  light,  Dante  flies  upward 
through  the  different  spheres  of  the  Celestial  Paradise,  and 
marks  his  progress  only  by  the  higher  glory  of  his  exalted  com- 
panion.^ 

Since  very  few  Christians,  according  to  Catholic  theology,  die 
in  a  state  sufficiently  mature  for  the  company  of  the  saints  in 
light,  Dante  could  not  people  Paradise  with  contemporaries  or 
persons  recently  deceased,  and  confined  himself  to  canonized 
saints  and  the  great  lights  of  the  Church,  who  are  the  common 
property  of  mankind.  He  stretched,  however,  a  point  in  favor 
of  his  ancestor  Cacciaguida,  who  in  the  heaven  of  Mars  praises 
the  virtues  of  the  great  Florentines  of  former  times,  and  prophe- 
sies Dante's  banishment,^  and  in  favor  of  two  of  his  personal 
acquaintances,  namely  Piccarda  (a  sister  of  Forese  and  Corso 
Donati  and  of  his  wife  Gemma  Donati),  who  was  a  saintly  nun 
of  Santa  Clara,^  and  Charles  Martel  of  Hungary,  his  friend  and 
benefactor,  who  married  the  beautiful  daughter  of  Emperor 
Rudolph  of  Habsburg  and  died  at  the  age  of  twenty-three 
(1295).'*  In  the  cases  of  those  eminent  schoolmen,  Thomas 
Aquinas,  Bonaventura,  and  Albert  the  Great,  who  died  during 
Dante's  youth,  he  anticipated  the  judgment  of  the  Church  which 
canonized  them. 

High  up  in  Dante's  Paradise  are  the  Apostles  and  Evangelists, 
and  the  redeemed  of  the  Old  Dispensation  from  Adam  down  to 
John  the  Baptist.  Then  we  meet  in  different  stars,  according 
to  merit  and  station.  Christian  emperors  and  kings,  as  Constau- 
tine  the  Great,  Justinian,  Charlemagne,  William  the  Good 
(King  of  Apulia  and  Sicily),  and  the  Roman  emperor  Trajan 
(whom  he  believed  to  have  been  saved   by  the  intercession  of 

1  Par.,  XXI.,  7  sqq.  ^  Par.,  III.,  49  sqq. 

2  Ibid,  Cantos  xv.-xvii.  *  Par.,  viii.,  49  sqq. 


396  THE  DIVIXA  COMMEDIA. 

Pope  Gregory  I.)/  the  great  doctors  of  the  Church,  as  Augustin, 
Chrysostom,  Anselra,  Thomas  Aqainas,  Albertus  Magnus,  Bona- 
ventura;  holy  monks,  as  St.  Bernard,  St.  Dominic,  Joachim  de 
Flore,  and  St.  Francis  of  Assisi.  Dante  mentions  also  a  few 
pious  popes,  as  Gregory  I.,  and  Agapetus,  but  only  casually  in  a 
word,  and  ignores  the  great  missionaries  who  converted  the 
northern  and  western  barbarians.  But  who  can  make  even  a 
limited  selection  of  the  cloud  of  witnesses  from  all  nations  and 
kindreds  and  tongues  ?  l^o  mortal  man,  not  even  the  saints  in 
heaven  know  the  number  of  God's  elect. 

"0  thou  predestination,  how  remote 

Thy  root  is  from  the  aspect  of  all  those 
Who  the  First  Cause  do  not  behold  entire  ! 

And  you,  0  mortals  !  hold  yourselves  restrained 
In  judging  ;  for  ourselves,  who  look  on  God, 
AVe  do  not  know  as  yet  all  the  elect : 

And  sweet  to  us  is  such  a  deprivation. 

Because  our  good  in  this  good  is  made  perfect, 
That  whatsoe'er  God  wills,  we  also  will."^ 

The  spirits  of  the  saints  show  themselves  to  Dante  in  different 
planets  to  indicate  the  different  stages  of  perfection  and  glory 
which  they  enjoy,  and  the  planetary  influences  under  which  they 
were  while  living  on  earth.  But  their  proper  common  abode  is 
the  Empyrean,  as  ex})lained  in  the  fourth  Canto  :^ 

' '  He  of  the  Seraphim  most  absorbed  in  God, 

Moses,  and  Samuel,  and  whichever  John 

Thou  maj^st  select,  I  say,  and  even  Mary, 
Have  not  in  any  other  heaven  their  seats, 

Than  have  those  spirits  that  just  appeared  to  thee, 

Nor  of  existence  more  or  fewer  years  ; 
But  all  make  beautiful  the  primal  circle, 

And  have  sweet  life  in  different  degrees, 

By  feeling  more  or  less  the  eternal  breath. 
They  showed  themselves  here,  not  because  allotted 

Tliis  sphere  has  been  to  them,  but  to  give  sign 

or  the  celestial  which  is  least  exalted. 
To  speak  thus  is  adapted  to  your  mind, 

Since  only  through  the  sense  it  apprehendeth 

What  then  it  worthy  makes  of  intellect. " 

^  See  above,  p.  349.         ^  p,^^.^  ^^^  130-138.        ^  p^r,^  iv.,  23-42. 


THE  DIVINA  CO.MMEDIA.  397 

Paradise  is  a  region  of  pure  light,  and  offers  no  such  variety 
of  definite  localities  and  physical  sensations  as  Hell  and  Purga- 
tory. Hence  it  is  less  })icturesque,  but  all  the  more  spiritual 
and  musical. 

It  Is  located  according  to  the  Ptolemaic  system,  In  and  beyond 
the  heavenly  bodies  known  at  that  time,  and  viewed  as  trans- 
parent spheres  that  roll  around  the  stationary  earth  with  different 
degrees  of  velocity,  so  that  those  which  are  nearest  move  slowest, 
while  the  most  distant  revolve  witli  greatest  rapidity.  Dante 
gives  us  his  astronomical  theory  in  the  second  Book  of  the 
Convivio  as  follows  ^ : 

' '  The  order  of  position  [of  the  heavens]  is  this,  that  the  first  one  enumer- 
ated is  that  where  the  jMoon  is  ;  the  second  that  where  Mercury  is  ;  the 
third  that  where  Venus  is  ;  the  fourth  that  where  the  Sun  is  ;  the  fifth  that 
where  Mars  is  ;  the  sixth  that  where  Jupiter  is ;  the  seventh  that  where 
Saturn  is  ;  the  eighth  that  where  the  Fixed  Stars  are  ;  the  ninth  is  that 
which  is  not  perceptible  to  sense  (except  by  the  motion  spoken  of  above), 
and  which  is  called  by  many  the  Crystalline,  that  is,  the  diaphanous,  or 
wholly  transparent.  However,  beyond  all  these,  the  Catholics  place  the 
Empyrean  Heaven,  which  is  as  much  as  to  say  the  Heaven  of  Flame  or 
Linninous  Heaven;  and  they  hold  it  to  be  immovable,  because  it  has  within 
itself,  in  every  part,  that  which  its  matter  demands.  And  this  is  the  reason 
that  the  Primiun  Mohile  moves  with  immense  velocity  ;  because  the  fervent 
longing  of  all  its  parts  to  be  united  to  those  of  this  [tenth  and]  most 
divine  and  quiet  heaven,  makes  it  revolve  with  so  much  desire  that  its 
velocity  is  almost  incomprehensible.  And  this  quiet  and  peaceful  heaven 
is  the  abode  of  that  Supreme  Deity  who  alone  doth  perfectly  behold  Him- 
self This  is  the  abode  of  the  beatified  spirits,  according  to  the  holy  Church, 
who  cannot  lie  ;  and  Aristotle  also  seems  to  think  so,  if  rightly  understood, 
in  the  first  of  The  Heavens  and  Earth.  This  is  the  supreme  edifice  of  the 
universe,  in  which  all  the  world  is  included,  and  beyond  which  is  nothing  ; 
and  it  is  not  in  space,  but  was  formed  solely  in  the  Primal  Mind,  which  the 
Greeks  call  Protonoe.  This  is  tliat  magnificence  of  which  the  Psalmist 
spake,  when  he  says  to  God,  '  Thy  magnificence  is  exalted  above  the 
heavens. '  And  thus,  summing  up  what  has  here  been  discussed,  it  seems 
that  there  are  ten  heavens,  of  which  that  of  Venus  is  the  third  ;  and  this 
will  be  spoken  of  in  the  place  where  I  intend  to  explain  it. ' ' 

In  the  same  work  he  gives  the  symbolic  significance  of  these 
heavenly  bodies.^ 

1  Bk.  II.,  Ch.  4.     In  K.  Hillard's  translation,  p.  64  sqq. 

2  Bk.  II.,  Ch.  14,  pp.  104-107,  K.  Hillard's  translation. 


398  THE  DIVINA  COMMEDIA. 

1.  "To  SCO  what  is  meant  by  the  third  heaven,  we  must  first  see  what  I 
mean  by  the  single  word  'heaven  ;'  and  tlicn  we  shall  see  how  and  why 
this  third  heaven  was  necessary  to  us.  I  say  that  by  heaven  I  mean  science, 
and  by  heavens  the  sciences,  because  of  three  resemblances  which  the  heavens 
bear  to  the  sciences,  above  all  in  order  and  number,  which  seem  to  correspond 
in  them  ;  as  will  be  seen  in  treating  of  this  word  'third.' 

2.  ' '  The  first  resemblance  is  the  revolution  of  each  around  its  immovable 
[centre].  Because  each  movable  heaven  revolves  around  its  centre,  which, 
liowever  forcible  that  motion  may  be,  remains  immovable  ;  and  so  each 
science  revolves  around  its  subject,  which  is  not  moved  by  it,  because  science 
demonstrates  its  own  subject,  but  presupposes  it. 

3.  ' '  The  second  resemblance  is  in  their  power  of  illumination.  For  as  each 
heaven  illuminates  visible  things,  so  each  science  illuminates  those  that  are 
intelligible. 

4.  "And  the  third  resemblance  is  in  their  [the  heavens]  conducting 
towards  perfection  of  things  disposed  thereto.  Of  which  influence,  in  so 
fiir  as  it  concerns  the  primal  perfection,  that  is,  material  generation,  all 
philosophers  are  agreed  that  the  heavens  are  the  cause,  although  they  state 
it  in  difi"erent  ways  ;  some  that  it  comes  from  the  motive  Powers,  like  Plato, 
Avicenna,  and  Algazel ;  some,  from  the  stars  (especially  in  the  case  of  human 
souls),  like  Socrates,  and  also  Plato,  and  Dionysius  the  Academician  ;  and 
some  from  the  celestial  virtue  which  is  in  the  natural  heat  of  the  seed,  like 
Aristotle  and  the  other  Peripatetics. 

5-  "  And  thus  the  sciences  are  the  causes  that  bring  about  our  second  per- 
fection ;  for  through  their  means  we  can  speculate  on  truth,  which  is  our 
ultimate  perfection,  as  the  Philosopher  has  said  in  the  sixth  of  the  Ethics^ 
wdien  he  says  that  the  true  is  the  good  of  the  intellect.  For  these,  as 
well  as  for  many  other  resemblances,  we  may  call  science  heaven. 

6.  "  Now  wo  must  see  why  we  say  third  heaven.  Here  we  must  reflect 
upon  a  comparison  between  the  order  of  the  heavens  and  that  of  the 
sciences.  For,  as  has  been  said  above,  the  seven  heavens  nearest  to  us  are 
those  of  the  planets ;  then  there  are  two  heavens  above  these,  movable, 
and  one  over  all  the  rest,  motionless.  To  the  first  seven  correspond  the 
seven  sciences  of  the  Trivimn  and  Quadrivium,  that  is.  Grammar,  Dia- 
lectics, Rhetoric,  Arithmetic,  Music,  Geometry,  and  Astrology.  To  the 
eighth  sphere,  that  is,  to  the  Starry  Heaven,  correspond  Natural  Science, 
called  Physics,  and  the  first  of  sciences,  caWcd  Metaphi/sics ;  to  the  ninth 
sphere  corr c?iY)onds  3Ioral  Science;  and  to  the  Quiet  Heaven  corresponds 
Divine  Science,  which  is  called  Theology.  And  the  reason  of  all  this  may 
be  briefly  seen. ' ' 

He  then  goes  on  to  explain  the  reasons  of  these  symbolic 
references,  which  are  very  fanciful. 

Between  the  different  spheres  and  their  inhabitants,  and  the 
grades   of  their   felicity,   there  is  an  intimate  correspondence. 


THE  DIYIXA  COMMEDIA.  399 

Paradise  consists  of  three  chief  regions,  the  Star  Pleaveu,  the 
Crystal  Heaven,  and  the  Empyrean.  With  the  seven  sub- 
divisions of  the  first,  it  comprehends  ten  places  of  abode  for  the 
blessed,  whereby  is  indicated  the  fullness  and  perfection  of 
Paradise. 

All  Paradise  resounds  with  the  praise  of  the  Triune  God. 

'"Glory  be  to  the  Father,  to  the  Son, 

And  Hoi}'  Ghost ! '  all  Paradise  began, 
So  that  the  melod}^  inebriate  made  me. 
AMiat  I  beheld  seemed  unto  me  a  smile 
Of  the  universe  ;  for  my  inebriation 
Found  entrance  through  the  hearing  and  the  sight. 
0  jioy  !  0  gladness  inexpressible  ! 

0  perfect  life  of  love  and  peacefulness  ! 
0  riches,  without  hankering  secure  !  "  ^ 

Let  us  now  briefly  survey  the  diiferent  spheres  of  the  celestial 
world  of  Dante. 

1.  The  Moon.  It  was  reached  by  Dante,  after  passing 
throuo^h  the  reo-ion  of  air  and  fire.  Here  are  the  souls  of  those 
wdio  did  not  quite  fulfill  their  spiritual  vows  or  were  forced  to 
violate  them.     (Canto  ii.-iv.) 

2.  Mercury.  Here  dwell  the  souls  of  those  who,  although 
virtuous,  yet   strove    in    their    bodily  life    after   earthly    fame. 

3.  Venus  contains  those  spirits  that  in  their  pious  strivings 
were  not  sufficiently  free  from  earthly  love,     (yiii.-ix.) 

4.  The  Sun  holds  a  middle  position  among  the  stars,  sending 
forth    his   rays   equally   in    all    directions,  and   is    the   clearest 

^  Par.,  XXVII.,  1-9.  Here,  as  in  the  inscription  on  the  gate  of  Hell,  no 
translation  comes  up  to  the  beauty  and  melod}'  of  the  original. 

"  Al  Padre,  al  Figlio,  alio  Spirito  Santo 

Comincio  Gloria  tutto  il  Paradiso, 

Si  die  m^ inchbriava  il  dolce  canto. 
Cid  clPio  vedcva,  mi  scvihiava  un  riso 

DeJV  universo;  pcrche  mia  chhrezza 

Enirava  per  V  udire  e pier  lo  riso. 
0  gioja  !  0  incffahile  alJegrczza ! 

0  riia  intera  </'  amore  c  di  pace  ! 

0  scnza  brama  sicura  ricchezza .' " 


400  THE  DIYINA  COMMEDIA. 

mirror  of  God  for  the  inhabitants  of  the  earth.  Here  reside 
the  most  worthy  theologians  and  doctors  of  tlie  Church ;  for 
"the  wise  shall  shine  as  the  brightness  of  the  firmament ;  and 
they  that  turn  many  to  righteousness,  as  the  stars  for  ever  and 
ever."^  Here  we  meet  Albertus  Magnus,  the  Universal  Doctor; 
Thomas  Aquinas,  the  Angelic  Doctor;  Bonaventura,  the  Seraphic 
Doctor;  Peter  the  Lombard,  the  Master  of  Sentences;  Gratian, 
the  great  authority  on  canon  law;  King  Solomon  ;  Dionysius 
the  Areopagite,  the  mystic  philosopher ;  Boethius,  the  senator 
and  philosopher  in  the  days  of  Theodoric  the  Goth  ;  St.  Isidore 
of  Seville;  the  venerable  Bede  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  Church; 
Richard  of  St.  Victor  of  Paris,  and  "Master  Sigier,''  who  lec- 
tured on  Logic  in  Paris,  but  is  known  only  in  the  verse  of 
Dante  and  his  commentators.  Hugo  of  St.  Victor,  John  Chry- 
sostom,  Anselni  of  Canterbury,  Rabanus  Maurus,  the  Calabriaa 
Abbot  Joachim  are  also  mentioned  in  irregular  order.  Thomas 
Aquinas,  Bonaventura,  and  Francis  of  Assisi  instruct  the  poet 
in  the  mysteries  of  salvation,  and  the  depths  of  Divinity, 
(x.-xiii.) 

5.  Mars  is  the  abode  of  the  blessed  martyrs,  crusaders  and 
other  heroes  who  have  fought  for  the  true  faith.  These  shine 
as  stars,  and  are  arranged  in  the  form  of  a  bright  cross,  from  the 
midst  of  which  beams  forth  the  form  of  Christ,     (xiv.-xvii.) 

6.  Jupiter  is  the  star  of  Justice  ("  a  Jovejustitla^^),  and  holds 
the  souls  of  just  and  righteous  princes.  These  are  arranged  first 
in  letters  so  as  to  express  the  words  "  Diligite  justitiam,  qui 
judicatis  terram/^  afterwards  in  the  form  of  an  eagle  as  the 
symbol  of  the  German  Roman  empire,  in  which  Dante  saw  the 
concentration  of  secular  power  according  to  divine  institutiou. 
(xviii.-xx.) 

7.  Saturn.  Here  reside  the  pious  hermits  and  contemplative 
mystics  who,  like  flames,  are  constantly  ascending  and  descend- 
ing a  ladder.  St.  Benedict  laments  over  the  corruptions  of  the 
monks,     (xxi.  and  xxii.) 

8.  Dante  reaches  now  the  Fixed-Star  Heaven.  Here,  in  a 
vision,  he  sees  the  triumph  of  Christ  and  the  Virgin  Mary,  and 

^  Comp.  Dan.  xii.,  3  ;  Matt,  xiii,,  43. 


THE  DIVINA  COMMEDIA.  401 

is  instructed  in  the  nature  of  Faith  by  the  Apostle  Peter,  in  the 
nature  of  Hope  by  James,  and  in  the  nature  of  Love  by  John. 
Love  is  that  which  gives  Heaven  its  peace — the  Alpha  and 
Omega  of  the  Holy  Scriptures.  It  arises  from  a  knowledge  of 
God,  who  is  Love  itself.  It  is  with  transport  that  Dante 
becomes  aware  of  being  in  possession  of  the  true  Apostolic  Faith, 
over  which  Heaven  exults,  and  the  blessed  spirits  shout  for  joy. 
The  Apostle  Paul,  who  is  emphatically  the  Apostle  of  Faith,  is 
not  mentioned  here,  but  elsewhere  called  "  the  mighty  Vessel 
of  the  Holy  Spirit."^  I  find  in  the  whole  Commedia  25  refer- 
ences to  Peter,  8  to  John,  7  to  Paul,  4  to  James.  Peter  reproves 
the  bad  popes,     (xxiii.-xxvi.) 

9.  In  the  ninth  sphere,  the  Crystal  Heaven  or  Prlmum  Mobile^ 
Dante  sees  the  eternal  hierarchy  of  angels  who  rule  the  nine 
heavenly  spheres,  and  move  in  nine  concentric  circles  around  a 
bright,  light-giving,  central  point — the  Deity.  Beatrice  instructs 
him  on  the  creation  of  Angels,  the  fall  of  Lucifer,  and  reproves 
the  ignorance  and  avarice  of  preachers  and  the  sale  of  indul- 
gences,    (xxvii.-xxix.) 

10.  Now  Dante  uears  the  pinnacle  of  Glory  and  Blessedness,  the 
Empyrean,  to  which  the  last  four  cantos  are  devoted.^  It  is  in 
itself  immovable,  and  yet  the  original  cause  of  all  movement. 
For  God  is  without  longing  for  anything  that  is  out  of  him,  but 
yet  gives  forth  all  life  out  of  himself.  The  poet  here  sees  all  those 
blessed  spirits,  which,  like  innumerable  leaves,  form  a  boundless 
snow-wliite  rose  that  spreads  and  multiplies  and  breathes  an 
odor  of  praise  throughout  the  heavens,  and  whose  cup  is  a  lake 
of  light. 

^  Par.,  XXI.,  127  sq.  ;  also  xxiv.,  63-G5  ;   xxviii.,  138,  and  other  places. 
2  Empyreau  or  Empyreal  (from  -rrvp,  fire,  eu-vpo^,  in  or  hij  the  fire)  is  the 
hi<;hest  heaven  formed  of  pure  fire  or  light,  the  seat  of  the  Deity.     Milton, 
Par.  Lost,  in.,  56  : 

''  Now  had  the  Almighty  Father  from  above, 
From  the  pure  Empyrean  ^vhere  he  sits 
High  throned  above  all  height,  bent  down  his  eye. 
His  own  works  and  their  works  at  once  to  view. 
About  Him  all  the  sanctities  of  heaven 
Stood  thick  as  stars,  and  from  His  sight  received 
Beatitude  past  utterance." 

26 


402  THE  DIVIXA  COMMEDIA. 

' '  In  fashion  then  of  a  snow-white  rose 

Displayed  itself  to  me  the  saintly  host 

Whom  Christ  in  his  own  blood  had  made  his  bride. ' '  ^ 

This  beautiful  imagery  was  probably  an  original  creation  of 
Dante's  genius,  or  suggested  by  the  rose  windows  of  Gothic 
cathedrals.  Others  connect  it  with  the  golden  rose  which  the 
popes  present  from  time  to  time  to  royal  personages  as  a  mark 
of  special  favor.^ 

Here  Beatrice  leaves  her  friend,  as  Virgil  had  left  him  in 
Purgatory,  and  resumes  her  place  among  the  blessed  in  the  third 
circle  at  the  side  of  the  contemplative  Eachel,  just  below  the 
seat  of  Eve  and  the  throne  of  the  Blessed  Virgin.  The  last 
words  of  Beatrice,  strange  to  say,  were  words  of  condemnation  of 
the  corrupt  papacy  and  the  prediction  that  God  would  cast  the 
pope  (Clement  V.)  down  to  the  place  of  Simon  Magus  and  his 
followers,  in  the  eighth  circle  of  the  Inferno?  We  should 
rather  expect  from  the  guardian  angel  of  his  youth  and  manhood 
some  sweet  parting  words  of  love  and  wisdom.  Dante  is  at 
first  not  aware  of  her  departure,  and  looking  for  lier,  he  sees  a 
fatherly  old  man,  clothed  in  light,  with  a  look  of  mild  benignity, 
who  informed  him  that  he  was  sent  by  Beatrice.  It  was  St. 
Bernard  of  Clairvaux,  the  godly  mystic,  ^^  the  honey-flowing 
doctor,''  the  singer  of  the  sweetest  hymn  of  the  Middle  Ages. 
He  is  the  master  of  hearts,  as  Thomas  Aquinas  is  the  master  of 

^  Par.,  XXXI.,  1-3  : 

''  In  forma  dunque  di  Candida  rosa 

3Ii  si  mostrava  la  milizia  santa, 

Che  nel  suo  sanguine  Crista  fece  sposa.-^ 

^  Pope  Innocent  III.  in  blessing  a  rose  (1206):  ^^  Hcec  tria  designaniur  in 
irihus  i^roprieiatihus  hujiis  floris,  qucm  vobis  visihilitcr  prsescntamus :  car  if  as, 
in  colore ;  jucunditas,  in  odorc;  saiietas,  insajjore;  rosa  quippe prx  cucicrisflorihus 
colore  dclcciat,  odore  recreat,  sapore  comforiaf;  dcJcctai  in  visu,  rccreat  in  oJfacfu, 
comfortat  in  gustu.^^  Then  follow  Scripture  quotations.  See  the  whole  pas- 
sage in  Scartazzini's  Com.,  III.,  821, 

3  Canto  XXX.,  145-148.  Beatrice  must  mean  either  Clement  Y.,  who  ruled 
at  Avignon,  1303-'14,  or  John  XXII.,  1316-'34,  l)ut  more  prol)al)]y  the 
former,  since  the  prediction  of  the  fate  of  the  pope  follows  iinmediately  after 
the  prophecy  concerning  the  Emperor  Henry  VII.,  Avhose  failure  was  caused 
by  the  double  dealing  of  that  pope.  Boniface  VIII.  and  Clement  V.  died 
before  the  Paradiso  was  finished,  but  Dante  always  prophesies  from  1300. 


o 

UJ 

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UJ 

CD 
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in 
o 


«     -^ 


<^.  '<'i. 


THE  DIVIXA  COM  MEDIA.  403 

intellects;  he  represents  the  theology  of  love,  as  the  latter  repre- 
sents the  theology  of  faith.  The  intuition  of  mysticism  rises 
higher  than  the  reflexion  and  speculation  of  scholasticism,  and 
attains  to  the  beatific  vision. 

Dante  looked  up  once  more  thankfull)^  to  Beatrice  crowned 
with  glory,  and  thanked  her  for  delivering  him  from  the  slavery 
of  sin  unto  the  freedom  of  the  sons  of  God.  She  cast  on  him  a 
lovinoj  smile  from  her  distant  heio-ht,  and  then  turned  a^^ain  to 
the  eternal  fountain  of  light  and  love.^ 

St.  Bernard  now  takes  charge  of  Dante  on  this  last  stage  of 
his  pilgrimage.  He  explains  to  him  (in  Canto  xxxii.)  the 
Rose  of  the  Blessed,  and  points  out  the  seats  of  the  saints. 
Around  the  cup  of  the  Rose  or  the  lake  of  light  are  the  inno- 
cent children,  with  their  childlike  faces  and  voices.  The  saints 
in  heaven  retain  their  ages  in  which  they  died ;  while  according 
to  Thomas  Aquinas  they  all  shall  rise  in  the  unfading  bloom  of 
youth.  The  Rose  is  divided  into  two  semicircles,  the  left  for  the 
saints  who  were  saved  before  Christ's  coming,  the  right  for  the 
saints  after  Christ's  coming.  The  seats  of  the  former  are  filled ; 
in  the  latter  there  are  still  vacant  seats  for  the  elect  of  the  church 
militant  below.  In  the  middle  of  the  top  tier  of  the  Rose  is  en- 
throned the  Blessed  Virgin  Mother,  surrounded  by  an  army  of 
angels.  She  looks  most  like  Christ,  and  sends  from  her  smiling 
countenance  joy  and  peace  to  all  the  saints  who  delight  in  gazing 
at  her.  To  her  left  is  Adam,  the  first  of  sinners  and  the  first  of 
the  redeemed,  and  Moses,  the  lawgiver ;  to  her  right  St.  Peter, 
the  prince  of  the  Apostles,  and  St.  John  the  beloved  disciple. 
Opposite  the  Virgin  and  on  the  same  level  is  John  the  Baptist, 
with  St.  Anna  on  the  left  and  St.  Lucia  on  the  right,  and  next  to 
him  St.  Francis,  St.  Benedict,  and  St.  Augustin,  the  three  teachers 
who,  next  to  the  Apostles,  exerted  the  greatest  influence  on  the 
Church. 

The  poet  now  approaches  the  highest  bliss  of  saints  and 
angels — the   beatific   vision.     St.    Bernard    prepares    him    for 

1  XXXI.,  92,  93  : 

*'  ed  eJla  si  lontana, 
Come  parca,  sorrise  e  riguardommi ; 
Poi  si  iornd  alV  eternafoniana.''^ 


404  THE  DIVINA  COMMEDIA. 

it  by  a  prayer  of  unrivaled  fervor  and  beauty  to  the  Virgin 
Mother.! 

Beatrice  and  many  a  saint  join  with  the  venerable  Bernard  in 
this  prayer  for  the  vision  of  glory  and  its  ennobling  and  sanctify- 
ing effect  upon  the  after-life  of  the  pilgrim.  It  is  granted. 
Dante  is  permitted  to  gaze  upon  the  Holy  Trinity.  It  is  but 
one  moment  of  intuition,  but  eternity  is  condensed  in  that 
moment.  He  beholds  three  circles  of  equal  circumference,  but  of 
threefold  color;  one  of  them  exhibiting  the  divine-human  counte- 
nance of  the  incarnate  Son  of  God  and  Saviour  of  the  world. 

"  0  Light  Eterne,  sole  in  Thyself  that  dwellest, 

Sole  knowest  Thyself,  and,  known  unto  Thyself, 
And  knowing,  lovest  and  smilest  on  Thyself. ' ' 

The  pen  refuses  its  office ;  the  mind  of  the  poet  is,  as  it  were, 
electrified  by  a  sudden  shock;  power  fails  to  his  lofty  fancy,  and 
he  is  inexpressibly  happy  in  the  surrender  of  his  will  to  the  love 
of  God,  which  illumines  the  Sun  and  all  the  Stars,  gives  Heaven 
and  Earth  their  motions,  fills  time  and  eternity,  and  draws  from 
the  choir  of  the  Blessed  an  endless  song  of  praise. 

Thus  ends  this  ^^deep  unfathomable  song.^' 

If  we  cast  a  glance  once  more  at  the  mutual  relation  of  the 
separate  parts,  we  shall  be  struck  with  the  profound  truth  of  the 
hint  given  by  Schelling,  that  the  first  is  sculptural,  the  second  pic- 
turesque, and  the  third  musical,  in  accordance  with  the  subjects 
therein  treated.  The  Inferno  is  an  immense  group  of  sharply- 
defined  statues,  of  dusky  shadow-forms,  fearful  monuments  of 
Divine  justice,  illumined  by  the  touch  of  poetry.     The  Purga- 

1  Canto  XXXIII.,  1-39: 

"  Vergine  3Iadre,  figJia  del  tuo  Figlio, 
Umile  cd  altapiu  che  creatura, 
Termine fisso  d^etcrno  com^iglio^^^  etc. 
Dante  must  have  been  very  familiar  with  St.  Bernard's  Homilies  on  the 
Song  of  Solomon,  and  De  Laudihus  Virginis  3Iatris.     St.  Bernard  was  a  devout 
worshiper  of  the  Virgin,  and  contributed  very  much  to  the  sj^read  of  that  wor- 
ship ;  hut  he  opposed  the  dogma  of  her  immaculate  conception  as  being  con- 
trary to  Catholic  tradition   and  derogatory  to  the  dignity  of   Christ,   tlie 
only  sinless  being.     We  may  infer,  therefore,  that  Dante  did  not  share  this 
belief.     The  immaculate  conception  remained  an  open  and  disputed  question 
till  187)4,  when  Pope  Pius  IX.  proclaimed  it  an  article  of  the  Catholic  laith. 
Onthehistory  of  this  dogma,  seeSchaff,  Creeds  of  Christendom,  Vol.  I.,  108-128. 


THE  DIVINA  COMMEDIA.  405 

torio  is  a  gallery  of  variegated  pictures,  opening,  in  an  endless 
perspective,  into  Heaven.  The  Paradiso  is  a  harmonious  unison 
of  the  music  of  spheres  with  the  praises  of  the  blessed  rational 
creation;  here  all  swims  in  light;  here  all  is  feeling,  sound, 
Hallelujah.  The  poem  opens  with  the  cry  of  despair ;  it  flows 
through  the  sadness  of  longing;  it  closes  with  the  jubilee  of  bliss. 
Beyond  Dante^s  description  of  the  beatific  vision  there  can  be 
nothing  more  beautiful,  sublime  and  enrapturing,  than  the  beatific 
vision  itself.^ 

THE  THEOLOGY  OF  DANTE. 
Dante  is  the  theologian  among  poets,  and  the  poet  among 
theologians.  As  he  stands  between  Homer  and  Virgil  on  the- 
Parnassus,  so  also  between  St.  Thomas  Aquinas  and  St.  Bonaven- 
tura  before  the  altar  of  the  holy  mystery.  His  theology  and  his 
relation  to  modern  Christianity  and  civilization  have  been  the  sub- 
ject of  considerable  dispute.    Three  views  may  be  distinguished. 

1.  He  was  an  orthodox  Catholic.  This  is  held  by  the  great 
majority  of  Dante-scholars,  especially  Giuliani,  Ozanam,  Artaud 
de  Montor,  Boissard,  Philalethes,  Wegele,  Gietmann,  Hettinger.^ 
But  the  most  orthodox  Catholics  cannot  deny  Dante's  fearless 
opposition  to  the  popes  of  his  age,  nor  can  they  accept  his  politics. 

2.  He  was  a  forerunner  of  Protestantism.  Matthias  Flacius, 
the  first  Lutheran  church  historian,^  numbers  him  among  his 

^  ''^ Post  Paradisum  Dantis  nihil  est  nisi  visio  Dei.''''  With  these  words 
Cardinal  Manning  recommends  Father  Bowden's  translation  of  Hettinger, 
Banters  Guttlich  Komodie,  to  English  readers. 

2  See  their  works  quoted  in  Literature,  pp.  331  and  333.  Hettinger  gives, 
as  far  as  I  know,  the  fullest  exposition  of  Dante's  theology,  from  scholastic 
sources  and  the  Catholic  standpoint,  in  his  Die  gotil.  Kommodie,  etc.,  pp.  331- 
510,  and  of  his  politics  (in  which  he  differs  from  Dante),  pp.  511-578.  He 
approvingly  quotes  (p.  578)  a  passage  from  Scartazzini,  that  burning  coffins 
would  be  ready  in  the  sixth  circle  of  Dante's  poetic  Hell  for  Luther,  Melanc- 
thon,  Zwingli,  Calvin  and  the  other  Keformers;  but  this  is  not  the  personal 
view  of  Scartazzini,  who  is  a  Protestant  minister  at  Soglio  in  the  Grisons, 
Switzerland.  Ozanam  puts  Luther  on  a  par  with  Fra  Dolcino,  who  was 
burned  alive  at  Vercelli  in  1307,  and  is  assigned  to  the  eighth  circle  of  the 
Inferno  (xxviii.,  55)  among  the  schismatics  and  disturbers  of  the  peace. 

3  Originator  and  chief  editor  of  the  "  Magdeburg  Centuries,"  so  called,  an 
anti-papal  Church  History  of  the  first  thirteen  centuries,  Basle,  15GU-'74,  13 
vols.  fol.     He  was  a  fierce  Lutheran  polemic  who  outluthered  Luther  in  his 


406  THE  DIVIXA  COMMEDIA. 

420  "  Witnesses  of  the  Evangelical  Truth  '^  in  the  Dark  Ages, 
i.  e.,  among  the  Lutherans  before  Luther,  as  he  regarded  them, 
and  quotes  in  proof  some  passages  in  the  Commedia  and  De 
Monarchia  which  bear  on  the  corruptions  of  the  Roman 
Church.-^  Thirty  years  afterwards  a  French  nobleman,  Fran9ois 
Perot  de  Mezieres,  endeavored  to  gain  the  Italians  for  the  Re- 
formation by  means  of  the  Commedia?  Another  Frenchman, 
Philippe  de  Mornay  du  Plessy  Marly,  the  most  accomplished  and 
influential  controversialist  and  diplomat  among  the  Huguenots  of 
his  age,  led  Dante  into  the  field  against  popery.^  The  contro- 
versy has  been  renewed  in  our  century  by  Goeschel  and  Karl 
Graul,  who  claim  Dante  as  a  Reformer  before  the  Reformation.* 
3.  He  was  a  heretic  in  disguise,  and  even  a  revolutionist 
and  socialist,  in  league  with  wide-spread  anti-papal  and  anti- 
catholic  societies  for  the  overthrow  of  Church  and  State.  He 
was  a  master  of  the  symbolic  language  of  the  Templars,  used  for 
their  destructive  aims,  a  friend  of  the  Albigenses,  a  Provenyal 

zeal  for  orthodoxy,  but  a  remarkable  man  of  vast  learning  and  indomitable 
perseverance  and  industry.  See  W.  Preger,  3Iatihias  Flacius  lUyricus  und 
seine  Zcit,  Erlangen,  1859-'61,  2  vols. 

^  Catalogus  Testium  Veritatis  Evangelicce,  Basle,  1556.  In  the  same  Pro- 
testant city  appeared  a  German  translation  of  Dante's  Be  3Ionarclua  by 
Heroldt  in  1559,  before  any  edition  of  it  had  been  published  in  Italy.  Some 
have  gone  so  far  as  to  attribute  to  Dante  a  direct  prophecy  of  Luther,  by  dis- 
covering his  very  name,  anagrammatically,  in  Veltro,  i.  e.,  Lutero  (see  above  p. 
312),  and  the  approximate  date  of  his  birth  (Nov.  10,  1483),  in  the  calcula- 
tion of  Landino,  the  Florentine  commentator  of  the  Commedia  (1481),  that 
Dante's  reformer  would  be  born  Nov.  15,  1484,  according  to  Furg.  xxx.,  31. 
This  is  the  opposite'  extreme  to  Ozanam's  view  of  Fra  Dolcino  as  a  forerunner 
of  Luther. 

2  Avciso  piacevole  dato  alia  hella  Italia  da  un  nohile  giovane  Franccse,  1586. 
Bellarmin,  the  great  Roman  controversialist,  takes  great  pains  to  refute  this 
anonymous  book,  in  his  Appendix  ad  Libros  de  Snmmo  Foniifice  (in  Dispntat. 
de  controvcrsiis  Chrid.  Fidei,  etc.,  Eoman  ed.  1832,  Tom.  I. ,  851  sqq.). 

^  Mijsterium  iniquitatis  s.  Ilistoria  papains^  or  Le  Mystcre  d^iniquite  on  Ilis- 
toire  de  la  jMjyaute,  1611.  He  finds  in  the  name  of  the  reigning  pope  (Paul  Y) 
the  apocalyptic  number  of  the  beast  (666) !  See  the  article  of  Gaufres  in  Lich- 
tenberger's  "  Encyclopedic,"  Tom.  ix.  440. 

^  Goeschel,  in  his  Dante  writings,  quoted  p.  333 ;  Graul,  in  the  Introduc- 
tion to  his  translation  of  the  Inferno,  1843  (lv  sqq.).  Giaml)attista  Giuliani, 
a  distinguished  Dante  scholar,  wrote  a  discourse  against  Graul  in  1844,  to 
silence  the  attempts  of  the  followers  of  the  "insolent  Lutlier "  {insolente 
Lutero)  to  claim  the  first  Christian  poet  for  their  heretical  opinions. 


THE  DIVIXxV  COMMEDIA.  407 

mocker,  a  worshiper  of  classical  heathenism,  a  pantheist,  an  infulcl. 
This  strange  theory  was  first  proposed  by  Gabriele  Rossetti,  an 
Italian  patriot,  in  an  anti-catholic  spirit,  1832,^  and  afterwards 
(1854)  in  a  modified  form  by  Aronx,  an  orthodox  Catholic,  and 
a  translator  of  the  Commedla?' 

The  third  theory  must  be  dismissed  as  a  radical  misunder- 
standing and  ingenious  absurdity.  The  first  is  essentially  cor- 
rect, but  there  is  also  an  element  of  truth  in  the  second  theory. 
Dante  was  a  sincere  and  earnest  Catholic  of  the  medieval,  but 
not  of  the  modern  ultramontane  type.  He  belonged  to  the  party 
of  progress  which  demanded  a  reformation  of  the  Church,  espe- 
cially of  the  papacy ;  and  in  this  respect  we  may  regard  him  as  a 
prophet  of  a  purer  form  of  Christianity. 

We  can,  of  course,  only  judge  from  what  he  actually  believed 
and  taught,  not  from  what  he  might  have  believed  in  another 
age  and  under  other  conditions.  But  judging  him  from  the 
spirit  of  his  works  he  would  have  advocated  the  cause  of  truth  and 
righteousness,  of  progress  and  moral  reform  in  any  subsequent  age. 

He  would  have  thoroughly  sympathized  with  Savonarola^ 
the  stern  monk,  prophet  and  reform  preacher,  in  opposition  to 
the  frivolity  of  Florence  and  the  wickedness  of  Pope  Alexander 
VI.,  who  demanded  his  execution  at  the  stake.  He  would  have 
gone  half  way  with  Luther,  in  his  Avar  against  the  shameful 
traffic  in  indulgences,  and  the  corruptions  of  the  papacy,  but  no 
further.  In  the  year  1870  he  would  have  opposed,  with  the  Old 
Catholics,  the  two  Vatican  dogmas  of  papal  infallibility  and 
papal  absolutism.    In  politics  he,  the  Italian  of  Italians,  and  the 

^  Gabriele  Rossetti  (1783-1854)  wrote  Commenfo  anaJitico  suUa  Dicina  Corn- 
media  {li^'2G-' '21)]  Sullo  spirito  anii-papale  die  prodm^^e  la  Biforma  {18'S2);  It 
misftro  diW  amor  Plaiordco  del  medio  ero,  deriiedo  da''  inistcri  antichi  (1840), 
and  La  Beatrice  del  Deintc  (1842).  He  tries  to  show  that  Dante  and  his  con- 
temporaries adopted  a  peculiar  idiom  to  veil  their  aversion  to  the  ])apaey, 
and  introduced  a  woman  as  the  special  object  of  their  adoration,  to  symbolize 
true  Christianity.  He  was  a  political  exile  from  his  native  Italy  and  settled  in 
England,  1824.  He  is  the  father  of  a  distinguished  family  of  artists,  poets, 
and  Dante-scholars.  See  p.  3;}5.  For  a  critical  examination  of  his  theory  com- 
pare K.  AVitte,  BoxsettV s Dante-Erldiirunej^  \n\ns Dante- For sclnin gen,  i.,  9G-lo9. 

2  Quoted  in  Literature  on  p.  332.  Add  to  it  his  work  Vhercsic  de  Dante 
dtmontrce par  Franeesea  da  Bimini,  devenue  tin  moijeii  dc propagitnde  J^t(i(doisc, 
1857.    Aroux  was  refuted  by  Boissard,  also  by  Witte ,  /.  c. ,  pp.  lUi)  S(i(i. ,  131  sqq. 


408  THE  DIVINA  COMMEDIA. 

idol  of  Italian  patriots,  would  have  hailed  the  union  and  inde- 
pendence of  Italy,  the  destruction  of  the  temporal  power  of  the 
papacy,  and  the  separation  of  Church  and  State. 

But  we  must  not  identify  him  with  Protestantism  in  any  of  its 
systems  of  doctrine  or  church  polity.  He  probably  even  to-day 
would  look  forward  to  an  ideal  Catholicism  of  the  future  and 
prophesy  the  coming  of  another  Veltro  and  Dux,  who  would 
restore  a  universal  church  and  a  universal  empire  in  friendly 
independence  and  confederation  for  the  spiritual  and  temporal 
welfare  of  mankind. 

We  cannot  find  in  his  writings  any  distinctively  Protestant 
principles,  either  the  supremacy  of  the  Scriptures  over  traditions, 
or  justification  by  faith  alone,  or  the  general  priesthood  of  the 
laity.  He  is  full  of  Scripture  facts  and  Scripture  doctrines, 
but  throughout  assumes  that  the  teaching  of  the  Church  is  in 
harmony  with  them  ;  he  believes  in  salvation  by  the  grace  of  God 
and  the  atoning  sacrifice  of  Christ,  but  demands  good  works  and 
crowns  them  with  reward;  he  teaches  the  divine  origin  and  inde- 
pendence of  the  State,  but  expects  the  German  emperor  to  be  in 
communion  with  the  Roman  Church.  In  all  essential  doctrines 
which  distinguish  the  Protestant  from  the  Poman  Catholic 
system  he  stands  on  the  Roman  Catholic  side.^ 

1  The  eminent  Dante-scholar,  Karl  Witte,  expresses  substantially  the  same 
view,  in  his  revision  of  Goeschel's  article  in  the  second  ed.  of  Herzog,  in., 
491  sqq.,  and  at  the  close  of  the  Introduction  to  his  German  version  of  the 
Commcdia,  p.  39  sq .,  where  he  says  : 

* '  Er  ist  Katholik  im  schonsten  Sinne,  loelcher  das  aUgcmehi  ChristUche  hczcivJinet; 
denn  audi  dcnfrommen  Frotestanten  iverden  Daniels  Verse  tiefergreifcnja  sicherlich 
mehr  crhauen,  als  dieheiden  christUchen  Epopoen  des  eiujUsclien  und  des  deutsclien 
protestaniischen  Didders  der  bcidcn  letzten  Jahrhunderte.  Aher  audi  in  dem  Sinne 
ist  er  kaiholisdi,  dass  wo  einmal  Untcrsdieidungslehren  zur  Spraehe  kommen,  ivie 
z.  B.  Paradies  XXV.,  69,  sein  BeJcenntniss  allerdings  nidit  auf  Seiten  der  evan- 
gelisdien  Kirdie  stdit.  Mit  gereditem  Bewusstseyn  ist  cs  also,  dass  der  Didder, 
naelidem  er  scinen  Glauhen  bekannt  hat,  vom  Apostcl  Fctrus,  als  dem  Felsen,  auf 
den  die  kailiolisdie  Kirelie  sidi  grilndet,  zum  Zcidien  seiner  FeeJifgliiuhigkeit  sieh 
segncn  und  umlcrdnzen  Icissf.  Filhrt  ilin  doeh  lehrend  und  ausdeuiend  die 
verkldrte  Beatrice,  dies  Sinnbild  der  vollen  Erkenniniss  reditgldahig  religidser 
Wahrheit,  von  einer  HimmelspMire  zur  anderen.  Und  so  halt  alter  Zorn  gegen  das 
Fapstthum  seiner  Zeit  den  Dichtcr  nicht  ah,  dem  Naehfotger  Fetri  als  solehem,  ja 
sclhst  scinem  hitteren  Feinde  Bonifaz  Viil.,  die  Ehrerhietung  eines  gliiuhigen 
Katholiken  zu  heweisen.     {IWlle  xix.,  100;  Fegefeuer  xix. ,  1J7 ;  xx.,  6V)." 


THE  DIVIXA  COMMEDIA.  409 

The  same  may  be  said  of  Savonarola,  who  has  so  often  been 
misrepresented  as  a  forerunner  of  Luther. 

Dante  is  the  poet  of  mediaeval  Catholicism.  His  poetry  re- 
flects the  theology  of  St.  Thomas  Aquinas  and  St.  Bernard,  that 
is,  orthodox  scholasticism  and  orthodox  mysticism  combined. 
The  Commedia  is  a  poetic  transfiguration  of  medijieval  theology 
and  piety.  He  worked  into  it  all  the  subtleties  of  scholastic 
speculation  and  all  the  warmth  of  mystic  devotion  to  the  very 
height  of  the  beatific  vision.  He  is  a  strong  believer  in  the  fun- 
damental doctrines  of  the  Trinity  and  Incarnation  and  all  the 
articles  of  the  oecumenical  faith  from  creation  to  life  everlastinsr. 

o 

He  clothes  these  truths  in  the  shining  garb  of  poetic  beauty,  and 
impresses  them  all  the  more  deeply  on  the  mind  and  heart.  To 
a  devout  student  the  Divina  Commedia  is  a  powerful  sermon 
accompanied  by  solemn  organ  music.  Neither  Milton,  nor  Klop- 
stock,  nor  any  other  poet.  Catholic  or  Protestant,  can  equal  hira 
in  the  poetic  vindication  and  glorification  of  our  common  Christian 
faith. 

In  connection  with  this  faith  Dante  held  also  those  mediaeval 
doctrines  which  the  Protestant  Reformers,  wisely  or  unwisely, 
rejected  on  account  of  their  abuse,  as  the  doctrines  of  Purgatory, 
the  worship  of  saints,  and  the  divine  foundation  of  the  papacy. 
Purgatory  with  its  expiatory  penances  is  one  of  the  three  divi- 
sions of  his  poem.  The  intercession  of  the  saints  in  behalf  of  the 
living  and  the  i)etitions  of  the  living  for  that  intercession  run 
through  the  whole,  and  culminate  in  that  wonderful  prayer  of 
St.  Bernard  to  the  holy  Virgin  Mother  who  is  enthroned  in 
Paradise  as  the  Queen  of  Saints.  He  assumes  throughout 
the  closest  communion  between  the  militant  and  triumphant 
church.  Beatrice,  Lucia,  and  Matilda  are  interested  in  his  salva- 
tion and  act  under  the  inspiration  of  Mary.  But  as  a  follower 
of  St.  Bernard,  he  must  have  disapproved  of  the  belief  in  her 
immaculate  conception  which  then  began  to  be  advocated  in  the 
form  of  a  special  festival  in  France.  He  peoples  heaven  with 
orthodox  saints,  and  excludes  from  it  all  impurity  and  heresy, 
and  even  all  the  unbaptized.  He  puts  heretics  in  the  sixth 
circle  of  the  Inferno.  He  believes  in  the  supremacy  of  Peter 
as  the  prince  of  the  Apostles  and  founder  of  the  Roman  Church, 


410  THE  DIVINA  COMMEDIA. 

who  ^^  keeps  the  keys/^  and  examines  and  instructs  him  in  the 
faith.  He  regards  the  pope  as  Peter's  successor  and  as  the  vicar 
of  Christ.  He  knows  only  one  Church,  and  condemns  schism 
even  more  than  heresy. 

But  here  his  connection  with  the  Eoman  Catholic  Church 
stops.  It  remains  for  us  to  consider  his  reformatory  or  Protestant 
element,  if  we  may  so  call  it. 


DANTE'S  RELATION  TO  THE  PAPACY  AND  THE 
REFORMATION. 

Dante  is  a  most  earnest  and  consistent  advocate  of  a  moral 
(not  doctrinal)  reformation  in  Church  and  State,  especially  of  the 
papacy.  He  urges  and  predicts  such  a  reformation  in  the  head 
and  the  members  again  and  again,  in  all  parts  of  his  poem  and  in 
a  variety  of  images.^  The  very  last  words  of  his  beloved 
Beatrice  in  Paradise  are  a  condemnation  of  the  popes  Boniface 
VIII.  and  Clement  V.,  who  shall  be  thrust  down 

"  Where  Simon  Magus  is  for  his  deserts." 

The  key  to  his  position  is  his  prediction  of  the  Greyhound 
( Veltro)  and  Leader  (Dux),  who  should  bring  about  such  a 
reformation,  and  the  political  theory  of  his  book  on  the  Empire 
(Be  Monarchia),  which  was  condemned  by  the  Council  of 
Trent.' 

He  treats  the  popes  with  the  same  stern  impartiality  as  em- 
perors, kings  and  private  persons,  according  to  their  moral 
merits.  He  respects  the  office,  but  condemns  those  who  dis- 
graced it,  in  such  a  fearless  manner  as  would  not  be  tolerated 
in  the  Roman  Church  of  the  present  day.  He  mentions  indeed 
several  popes  and  cardinals  among  the  blessed  in  heaven,  as 
Gregory  I.  and  Agapetus,  but  none  of  them  is  assigned  so  high 
a  position  as  the  great  doctors  of  the  church  and  founders  of 
monastic  orders.     He  ignores  Gregory  VII.,  the  greatest  of  the 

1  Comp.  Inf.  I.,  101-111  ;  Furg.  VI.,  97-125  ;  XX.,  10-15  ;  94-9G  ;  xxxill., 
34-GO;  Par.  xvil.,  76-99;  XXI.,  118-120  ;  XXII.,  14-18;  90-96;  XXVII., 
40-66  ;  142-148. 

^  Comp.  tlie  jirevious  discussion  on  pp.  308-312  ;  320-322. 


THE  DIVIXA  COMMEDIA.  411 

popes,  jn^obably  because  of  his  quarrel  with  the  emperor.^ 
Inuocent  III.  is  barely  mentioned.^  lie  met  two  popes  among 
the  penitents  in  Purgatory,  namely,  Adrian  V.  who  sits  among 
the  avaricious  in  the  fifth  circle,  but  was  pope  only  thirty-nine 
days  (d.  1276),  and  Martin  IV.,  who  suffers  among  the  gluttons, 
because  his  fondness  for  eels  from  the  lake  of  Bolsena  in  the 
Papal  States,  and  the  vernaccia  wine  brought  his  life  to  a  sud- 
den close  (1285).^  He  saw  a  multitude  of  avaricious  popes  and 
cardinals  in  the  fourth  circle  of  Hell,  which  is  guarded  by 
Plutus  as  their  jailer."*  He  condemns  a  heretical  po})e,  Anasta- 
sius  II.  (496).^  He  is  most  severe  on  the  simoniacal  i)opes  who 
are  already,  or  will  soon  be  tormented  in  the  eighth  circle,  nota- 
bly Nicholas  III.  (d.  1281),  Boniface  YIII.  (d.  1303),and  Clem- 
ent Y.  (d.  1314).  The  last  two  were  still  living  when  the 
Commedia  was  begun  (1300),  but  [Nicholas,  with  the  foresight  of 
disembodied  spirits,  knew  that  they  were  coming,  and  wondered 
only  that  they  should  come  so  soon  and  not  tarry  longer  with 
their  golden  idols  on  earth. ^ 

^  For  this  reason  I  cannot  identifj'  the  ^latilda  of  the  Purgatory  who  carries 
Dante  over  the  river  Lethe  to  Beatrice  (xxviii.,  40  sqq. ;  xxxi.,  92  ;  xxxii., 
28,  82;  xxxiii.,  119,  121),  vrith  the  Countess  IMatikhi  of  Tuscany  who  pro- 
tected Gregory  at  Canossa  and  bequeathed  to  the  papal  see  a  large  amount 
of  her  possessions,  thus  increasing  the  evil  of  the  fatal  gift  of  Constantine. 
Nearly  all  the  older  commentators,  as  also  Ruskin  and  Longfellow,  identify 
the  two  Matildas  ;  others  think  of  ^Matilda,  wife  of  Emperor  Henry  the  Fowler, 
distinguished  for  goodness  and  beauty,  or  ^Nlatikla  of  Hackenborn,  a  saintly 
Benedictine  nuu,  or  ^Matilda  of  Magdeburg,  or  a  friend  of  Beatrice  whose 
death  is  mentioned  in  the  J'ita  Xiiova.  See  the  notes  of  Scartazzini  and 
Plumptre  (i.,  337  sq.)  ;  AVitte's  Bantc-Forschungcn,  II.,  311  sqq.,  and  Preger, 
Dante's  JTaielda,  Mlincheu.  1873. 

2  Par.  XI.,  92.  ^  Purg.  xix.,  99  ;  XXI v.,  22. 

^  Inf.  VII.,  44-48.  5  luf.  xi.,  8,  9.     See  above  p.  38G. 

^  Nicholas  III.,  of  the  Orsini  (Bear)  famih'  of  Pome,  "  the  son  of  the  she- 
bear  (or^rt),  so  eager  to  advance  the  cubs  iorsatii)-''  {Inf.  Xix.,  70  sq.),  first 
mistook  Dante  for  Boniface  YIII.  (xix.,  52  sqq.)  : 

"And  he  cried  out :  Dost  tliou  stand  there  already, 
Dost  thou  stand  there  already,  Boniface? 
By  many  years  tlie  record  lied  to  me. 
Art  thou  so  early  satiate  with  that  wealth 

For  which  thou  didst  not  fear  to  take  b}-  fraud 
The  beautii'ul  Lady  [the  Churcli]  and  then  work  her  woe?" 
In  Par.  xxx.,  145  sqq.,     Boniface  is  supposed  to  be  already  with  Simon 
Magus,  and  to  be  followed  soon  l)y  Clement. 


412  THE  DIVINA  COMMEDIA. 

The  pope  whom  he  most  severely  condemns  and  pursues  a 
dozen  times  in  all  parts  of  his  poem  with  fiery  indignation  and 
almost  personal  animosity,  is  Pope  Boniface  VIII.  He  regarded 
him  as  the  chief  author  of  his  exile  and  all  his  misfortune,  and 
as  the  worst  of  Simoniacs. 

Boniface  w^as  a  man  of  great  learning,  ability  and  energy,  but 
violent,  cruel,  ambitious,  avaricious  and  utterly  unscrupulous. 
He  scared  the  humble  Coelestin  V.  into  a  resignation,  which 
was  never  before  heard  of  in  the  history  of  the  papacy,  shut  him 
up  in  a  castle,  bought  the  papal  crown,  created  two  of  his  very 
young  nephews  cardinals,  appointed  twenty  bishops  and  arch- 
bishops from  among  his  relatives  and  friends,  and  left  them 
enormous  sums  of  money.  He  made  war  upon  the  powerful 
family  of  the  Colon nas  and  confiscated  their  vast  possessions. 
He  introduced  the  first  papal  jubilee  with  its  abuses,  in  the  very 
year  in  which  Dante  began  the  Commedia.  He  carried  the  sys- 
tem of  papal  absolutism  to  the  utmost  extreme  of  audacity  and 
pretension,  and  claimed  in  the  bulla  TJnam  Sandam  (1302)  the 
highest  temporal  as  well  as  ecclesiastical  power  on  earth.  A 
commission  of  investigation  after  his  death,  composed  of  Italians 
and  Frenchmen  well  acquainted  with  him,  charged  him  with  the 
worst  of  crimes  and  even  with  infidelity.  His  haughty  reign 
ended  in  humiliation,  insult  and  grief — the  very  opposite  of  the 
scene  at  Canossa.  The  public  opinion  of  his  contemporaries  is 
expressed  in  the  sentence:  *' He  entered  like  a  fox,  he  reigned 
like  a  lion,  he  died  like  a  dog.^^ 

Dante  and  Boniface  were  political,  ecclesiastical  and  moral 
antipodes,  but  the  poor  exile  triumphed  over  the  mighty  pope  in 
the  judgment  of  posterity.  Dante  called  his  antagonist  the 
prince  of  modern  Pharisees,  a  usurper  of  the  papal  chair,  who 
bought  and  then  abused  the  church,  and  turned  the  cemetery 
of  St.  Peter,  the  Vatican  hill,  into  a  common  sewer  of  cor- 
ruption.^ 

^Xevertheless  he  justly  condemns  with  the  same  impartiality 
Phih'p  the  Fair,  of  France,  that  '^modern  Pilate,"  for  his  cruel 
treatment    of  the   aged    pope    at    Anagni.^     He   distinguished 

^  See  the  passages  quoted  on  p.  3G4,  note  2. 
2  Purg.  XX.,  87  sqq. 


THE  DIVIXA  COMMEDIA.  413 

between  the  chair  of  Peter  and  "hiiu  who  sits  there  and  degen- 
erates.'^ ^ 

Dante  was  an  ideal  imperialist  in  direct  opposition  to  the  papal 
absolutism  of  Boniface.  lie  believed  in  the  unity  of  etn])ire  with 
two  independent  heads  in  amicable  relation  :  the  Roman  pope  as 
the  spiritual  ruler,  the  German  Roman  emperor  as  the  secular 
ruler.  Church  and  State  are  both  divine  institutions,  the  one  for 
the  eternal,  the  other  for  the  temporal  w^elfare  of  mankind.  He 
borrowed  his  theory  from  the  ante-Xicene  period,  but  substituted 
a  Christian  for  a  heathen  emperor.  We  may  say,  that  he  antici- 
pated the  American  theory  of  a  friendly  separation  of  Church 
and  State;  yet  with  this  important  difference  that  he  had  in 
mind  one  Catholic  Church  instead  of  a  number  of  denomina- 
tions, and  one  Roman  Empire  instead  of  a  federal  Republic. 
The  two  powers  should  remain  separate  and  distinct.  A  mixture 
of  the  two  and  a  su])remacy  of  one  over  the  other  (either  in 
the  form  of  the  papal  theocracy,  or  in  the  form  of  Csesaro- 
papacy)  is  a  source  of  evil,  of  friction  and  war.  There  are 
two  suns  which  give  light  to  the  world,  the  pope  and  the 
emperor^  The  State  must  not  be  degraded  to  a  mere  moon 
that  borrows  her  light  from  the  one  sun,  as  is  done  in  the 
Hildebrandian  system. 

"  Rome,  that  reformed  the  world,  accustomed  was 

Two  suns  to  have,  which  one  road  and  the  other, 
Of  God  and  of  the  world,  made  manifest. 
One  has  the  other  quenched,  and  to  the  crosier 
The  sword  is  joined,  and  ill  beseemetli  it 
That  by  main  force  one  with  the  other  go. 
Because,  being  joined,  one  feareth  not  the  other."'  ^ 

Dante  derived,  w^ith  the  common  opinion  of  the  Middle  Ages, 
the  temporal  power  of  the  pope  from  the  fictitious  donation  of 
Constantine  to  Sylvester  I.,  and  repeatedly  alhides  to  this  fatal 
gift  which  was  well  meant  but  ^^  bore  bad  fruit." "^ 

1  Par.  XII.,  89,  90.  ^  p„,.^   xvi.,  lOG-112. 

^  Piirg.  XXXII.,  125  ;  Par.  XX.,  55,  and  in  the  third  hook  of  his  treatise  De 
3Ionarchia.  Constantine,  on  account  of  his  good  intention  and  ignorance  of 
the  ill  effects  of  his  donation,  is  pardoned  and  placed  in  the  sixth  heaven 
among  the  righteous  kings. 


414  THE  DIVINA  COMMEDIA. 

' '  All,  Constantlne  !  of  liow  mucli  woe  was  mother, 
Not  tliy  conversion,  but  that  marriage-clower 
Wliicli  the  first  weaUhy  Father  took  from  thee  !  "  ^ 

Pie  believed  that  the  gift,  if  ever  made,  was  unlawful,  although 
it  is  incorporated  in  the  canon  law  (the  Decretum  Gratiani). 
How  w(ui]d  lie  have  rejoiced  if  he  could  liave  seen  the  book  of 
the  Roman  critic  and  humanist  Laurentius  Valla  (Lorenzo  della 
Valle,  d.  1457)  who  proved  beyond  contradiction  that  the  dona- 
tion of  Constantine  was  nothing  but  a  hierarchical  fable.^ 

The  principal  evil  which  resulted  from  the  temporal  power  of 
the  pope  and  Iiis  connection  with  all  the  political  quarrels  and 
intrigues  of  the  age,  was  Simony,  or  the  sin  of  Simon  Magus,  who 
wished  to  buy  the  Holy  Ghost  for  lucrative  ])urposes  and  incurred 
the  fearful  rebuke  of  St.  Peter.  "  Thy  silver  perish  with  thee, 
because  thou  hast  thought  to  obtain  the  gift  of  God  with  money. 
Thou  hast  neither  part  nor  lot  in  this  matter :  for  thy  heart  is 
not  right  before  God.  Repent  tlierefore  of  this  thy  wicked- 
ness, and  pray  the  Lord,  if  perhaps  the  thought  of  thy  heart 
shall  be  forgiven  thee.  For  I  see  that  thou  art  in  the  gall  of 
bitterness  and  in  the  bond  of  iniquity  ^^  (Acts  viii :  20-23).  This 
passage  is  the  text  of  Dante's  invectives  against  the  popes  who 

1  Inf.  XIX.,  115-118: 

^^  Ahi,  Constantin.  cli  quanto  malfu  mafre, 
Non  la  ilia  convtrsion,  ma  quclla  dote 
Che  da  te  prese  il  primo  ricco  patre !  " 

In  Milton's  translation  : 

"Ah  Constantine  !  of  how  much  ill  was  cause, 

Not  thy  conversion,  but  those  rich  domains 
Tliat  the  first  wealthy  pope  received  of  thee  I  " 

^  Declamatio  defalso  credita  et  emeniita  Conffiantini  donatione.  It  was  writ- 
ten about  1440,  While  the  author  was  in  the  service  of  the  liberal-minded 
Alfonso  v..  King  of  Arragon,  and  republished  by  Ulnch  von  Hutten,  with 
an  iionical  dedication  to  Pope  Leo  X.,  in  1517.  It  had  a  great  influence  upon 
Luther,  who  received  a  cop}"  through  a  friend  in  February,  1520.  See  Strauss, 
UlrU-hvonlluKcn,  p.  211  sqq.  (4th  ed.  1878)  ;  K;;stlin,  M.  LiifJicr,  I.,  324  sq. 
Constantin(>\s  donaticm  is  admitted  to  be  a  forgery,  as  well  as  the  pseudo- 
Isidorian  Decretals,  by  all  historical  scholars  of  repute.  See  c.  g.  Streber  iu 
the  new  ed.  of  Wetzer  and  Welte's  Kirehenlcxikon,  vol.  iii.,  979-985,  and  J. 
Priedrich,  IJie  Konstantinische  Schenkung,  MUncheu,  1889. 


THE  DIVIXA  COMMEDIA.  415 

made  themselves  guilty  of  the  same  sin  and  incurred  double 
guilt  on  account  of  their  exalted  position  as  successors  of  St. 
Peter,  and  the  incalculable  influence  of  their  bad  example  upon 
clergy,  monks  and  laity.  It  is  notorious  that  many  popes 
made  merchandise  of  holy  things,  bought  the  papal  crown,  sold 
cardinals'  hats  and  bishops'  mitres,  and  perverted  the  property 
of  the  church  for  the  enrichment  of  their  nephews  and  other 
members  of  their  families.  Xearly  all  the  rich  palaces  of  Roman 
nobles  with  their  picture  galleries  and  treasures  of  art  owe  their 
origin  to  papal  nepotism.  The  worst  period  of  the  papacy  was 
that  of  the  so-called  pornocracy  in  the  tenth  and  eleventh  centu- 
ries, which  cannot  be  mentioned  without  humiliation  and  shame. 
It  was  then  that  the  German  emperors  had  to  interfere  and  to 
depose  those  wicked  popes,  the  paramours  and  bastards  of  some 
bold,  bad  Koman  women.  Henry  YII.,  at  the  synod  of  Sutri 
(1046),  deposed  three  rival  popes,  all  Simonists,  and  elected  the 
worthy  bishop  Bruno  of  Toul  in  their  place  (1048),  as  Leo  IX., 
the  first  reforming  pope  under  the  direction  of  Hildebrand,  who 
himself  succeeded  to  the  papal  chair  as  Gregory  YII.  (1073) 
and  made  war  upon  simony,  but  as  well  also  upon  sacerdotal 
marriage,  and  the  power  of  the  emperor.  With  all  his  zeal  against 
Simony,  Gregory  could  not  prevent  his  successors  from  relapsing 
into  the  same  sin. 

Dante  condemns  the  Simonists  to  the  eighth  circle  of  Hell, 
where  they  are  turned  upside  down  with  their  heads  in  a  narrow 
hole  and  their  feet  and  legs  standing  out  and  burning — a  fit  pun- 
ishment for  perverting  the  proper  order  of  things  by  putting  the 
material  above  the  spiritual,  and  money  above  religion.  The 
greatest  sufferers  in  this  pit  are  the  simoniacal  popes.  The  cor- 
ruption of  the  Roman  court  contaminated  the  higher  and  lower 
clergy  and  the  whole  church. 

Dante  looked  to  Germany  for  a  reformation  of  the  Church  and 
a  restoration  of  the  Empire,  but  he  was  doomed  to  disappointment 
in  the  hope  he  set  on  Henry  YIL,  and  his  vicar  in  Lom- 
bardy.  In  the  meantime  after  the  death  of  Boniface,  the  papacy 
had  been  transferred  to  Avignon,  and  became  subservient  to  the 
French  monarchs.  Then  followed  the  scandalous  papal  schism, 
the  reformatory  councils,  the  restoration  and  renewed  corruption 


416  THE  DIVINA  COMMEDIA. 

of  the  papal  power.  At  last  the  reformation  came  from  Ger- 
many, but  not  from  an  emperor,  and  in  a  much  more  radical 
form  than  the  poet  dreamed  of. 

In  another  sense,  however,  he  proved  a  true  prophet ;  for  it 
was  by  the  aid  of  Germany,  in  the  wars  of  1866  and  1870,  that 
Italy  achieved  her  political  unity  and  independence. 


DANTE  AND  THE  JOACHIMITES. 

Dante  stood  not  alone  in  his  attitude  to  the  papacy.  There 
runs  through  all  the  Middle  Ages  a  protest  against  the  abuses 
in  the  Church  and  a  desire  for  a  reformation  which  grew 
stronger  and  stronger  and  ultimately  culminated  in  the  mighty 
religious  revolution  of  the  sixteenth  century. 

Before  him  and  during  his  lifetime  there  was  a  considerable 
commotion  in  the  Franciscan  order  with  which  he  was  in  sym- 
pathy. Tradition  connects  him  with  this  order.^  He  was  buried 
in  the  Franciscan  church  at  Kavenna.  His  daughter  Beatrice 
was  a  nun  in  a  Franciscan  convent  of  that  city.  He  fully  appre- 
ciated the  monastic  principle  of  apostolic  poverty,  and  considered 
wealth  and  temporal  power  a  curse  to  the  clergy.  He  puts  into 
the  mouth  of  Thomas  Aquinas,  who  was  a  Dominican,  a  high 
eulogy  of  St.  Francis  of  Assisi ;  wdiile  Bonaventura,  a  Franciscan, 
in  the  spirit  of  true  brotherhood,  without  envy  and  jealousy, 
celebrates  the  life  and  deeds  of  St.  Dominic.^  He  assigns  one  of 
the  uppermost  places  in  the  Rose  of  the  Blessed  to  St.  Francis, 
the  most  childlike,  the  most  amiable,  and  the  most  poetic  monk 
of  the  Middle  Ages,  the  sympathizing  friend  of  all  God's  crea- 
tures, whose  highest  aim  and  crowning  glory  was  transformation 
into  the  image  of  the  Saviour,  who  married  Christ's  poverty  and 
dying  left  the  care  of  this  his  "  lady-love ''  (la  sua  donna  piii 
cava)  to  every  one  of  his  disciples.  Dante,  who  was  probably 
familiar  with  Bonaventura's  life  of  the  saint,  thus  tersely 
describes  his  character : 

^  He  joined  the  lay-brethren  of  the  Franciscan  Order,  according  to  the 
testimony  of  Francesco  da  Buti,  one  of  liis  earliest  commentators,  Avho  wrote 
about  1385.  ^  p^^^  ^LI.,  40  sqq. ;  Xll,,  31  sqq. 


THE  DIYIXA  COMMEDIA.  417 

"  On  tlie  rouiih  rock  'twixt  Tiber's  and  Arno's  plain, 
From  Clirist  received  lie  the  last  seal's  impress, 
Which  he  two  years  did  in  his  limbs  sustain. 

When  it  pleased  Him,  who  chose  him  thus  to  bless, 
To  lead  him  up  tlie  liiuh  reward  to  share 
Which  he  had  merited  by  lowliness, 

Then  to  his  brothers,  each  as  rightful  heir, 
He  gave  in  charge  his  lady-love  most  dear. 
And  bade  them  love  her  with  a  steadfast  care. ' '  ^ 

At  the  same  time  he  complains  of  the  departure  of  the  Fran- 
ciscans from  the  apostolic  simplicity  of  their  founder,  and  makes 
like  complaint  of  the  degeneracy  of  the  Dominican  order.  He 
was  in  sympathy  with  the  puritanical  or  spiritual  party  of  the 
Joachimites,  and  the  reform  movement  which  agitated  the  Fran- 
ciscan order  from  the  middle  of  the  thirteenth  century.  He 
esteemed  Joachim  of  Flore,  who  gave  the  first  impulse  to  the 
movement,  as  a  true  prophet  and  assigned  him  a  high  place  in 
Paradise  with  Rabanus  Maurus,  Dominic,  Bonaventura,  Chry- 
sostom,  and  Anselm. 

"  Here  is  Rabanus,  and  beside  me  here 
Shines  the  Calabrian  Abbot  Joachim, 
He  with  the  spirit  of  prophecy  endowed. ' ' 

Joachim  was  a  prophet  in  the  same  sense  as   Dante  was  a 

1  Par.  XI.,  106-114,  Pkimptre's  translation.  The  final  seal  (/'  uliimo  sigillo, 
line  107)  of  Francis  and  his  Order  is  the  miracle  of  stigmatization  or  the  im- 
pression of  the  five  wounds  of  the  crucifixion.  It  was  reported  by  his  biog- 
raphers that  St.  Francis  after  long  and  intense  meditation  on  the  sufferings 
of  the  Saviour,  received  in  1224,  on  the  roeky  Mount  Alveruia,  in  the  Apen- 
nines, while  absorbed  in  prayer,  on  his  hands  and  feet  and  side  the  wounds 
of  the  nails  and  the  spear,  and  bore  them  two  years  till  his  death  (1226).  The 
place  is  still  shown  near  the  monastery  which  the  saint  founded.  Thomas  a 
Celano,  the  author  of  the  Dies  Iric,  was  his  intimate  friend  and  first  biogra- 
pher.    On  St.  Francis,  see  above  p.  146  and  193  sqq. 

2  Par.  XII.,  139-141  : 

*'//  Calavrese  [Calahrescl  abate  Gioacckino 
Di  spiv iio prof etico  dotaio.''^ 
His  Latin  name  was  Johannes  Joachimus  de  Flore  (or  de  Floris,  de  Floribus); 
his  Italian  name  was  Giovanni  Gioacckino  di  Fiore  (or  del  Fiore,  Santa  Fiora). 
His  convent  w^as  called  monasteriuni  Florense  {de  Flore,  de  Floribun).     See 
Scartazzini,  Tom.  iii.,  333. 
27 


418  THE  DIVINA  COMMEDIA. 

prophet.  He  roused  the  conscience,  he  reproved  wickedness,  he 
predicted  a  better  future,  like  the  Hebrew  prophets.  A  brief 
notice  of  this  remarkable  man  and  his  school  may  not  be  out  of 
place  here.^ 

Joachim  was  abbot  of  a  Cistercian  convent  at  Flore  or  Fiore 
in  Calabria,  an  older  contemporary  of  St.  Francis  (Renan  calls 
him  his  Baptist),  and  like  him  an  enthusiast  for  entire  conformity 
to  Christ  in  spirit  and  outward  condition.  He  made  a  pilgrimage 
to  the  Holy  Land,  fasted  forty  days  on  Mount  Sinai,  led  a  life 
of  self-denial  and  devotion  to  his  fellow-men,  studied  with 
special  zeal  the  prophetic  portions  of  the  Scriptures,  opposed  the 
worldliness  and  earthly  possessions,  the  simony,  nepotism  and 
avarice  of  the  clergy,  and  predicted  a  reformation.  He  died 
about  1202.  He  was  revered  by  the  people  as  a  wonder-working 
prophet  and  saint.  Neander  says  of  him  :  ^'  Grief  over  the 
corruption  of  the  Church,  longing  desire  for  better  times,  pro- 
found Christian    feeling,  a   meditative    mind,  and   a   glowing 

^  The  Literature  on  this  chapter  of  mediseval  church  history  is  quite  exten- 
sive, although  several  points  need  to  he  cleared  up.  The  Acta  Sanctorum  for 
May  29th  give  many  documents.  "Wadding,  the  historian  of  the  Franciscan 
Order,  treats  the  history  of  the  Spiritual  party  with  sympathy,  Annates 
Ordinis  3Iin.  iv.,  6  sqq.  ISIaurique,  Annates  Cisicrcicnses,  Regensburg,  1741. 
Oervaise,  Ilistoire  de  VAhhe  Joachim,  Paris,  1745,  v.  vol.  *  Engelhardt,  in 
•his  "  Kirchengeschichtliche  Abhandlungen,"  Erlangen,  1832  pp.  1-150  ;  265- 
291.  ^  Hahn,  Geschichte  des  Ketzer  im  llittetalter  (Stuttgart,  1850),  vol.  ii. 
69-175.  ^Neander,  Church' History,  iv.  220-232  (Torrey's  translation). 
*  Dcillinger,  Pope  Fables  and  Prophecies  of  the  Middle  Ayes,  Eug.  transl.  by 
Plummer,  Am.  ed.  by  H.  B.  Smith,  N.  York,  1872,  pp.  364  391  ;  and  his 
AJcad.  Vortrdge,  1888,  i.,  95  sqq.  Eousselot,  Histoire  de  V  ^vangile  eternel,  Paris, 
1861,  I.  Renan,  Joachim  de  Flore  et  V  ^vangile  eternel,  in  the  "  Revue  des  deux 
mondes,"  July,  1866  (the  same  somewhat  enlarged  in  his  "  Nouvelles  etudes 
d'  histoire  religieuse,"  Paris,  1884).  Preger,  Das  Evangclium  aeternum  und 
Joachim  von  Floris,  in  the  "Abhandlungen  der  Konigl.  Bayerischen 
Akademie  der  Wiss.,"  Mlinchen  1874.  *  Renter,  Gesch.  dcr  Aufkldrung  im 
3Iittelalter  (Berlin,  1875),  vol.  II.,  191-218.  Moller  in  Schaff-IIerzog,  sub 
"Joachim  von  Floris."  Tocco,  Uere^ia  nel  medio  evo,  Firenze,  1884.  P. 
Ileinrich  Deuifle,  Das  Evangclium  xternum  und  die  Commissioii  zu  Anagni, 
with  the  Protocoll  der  Commission  zu  Anagni,  in  the  "  Archiv  fiir  Literatur — 
und  Kirchengeschichte  des  Mittelalters  "ed.  by  Deniile  and  Ehrle,  vol.  i. 
(1885),  pp.  49-142.  Franz  Ehrle,  Die  Spiritualen,  im  Verhdltniss  zinn  Fraucis- 
caner  Orden  laid  zu  den  Fraticellen,  ibid.  pp.  509-570.  The  last  two  treatises 
publish  important  documents. 


THE  DIVINA  COM  MEDIA.  419 

imagination,  such  are  the  peculiar  characteristics  of  his  spirit 
and  of  his  writings."  ^ 

Joachim  wrote  three  works :  The  Harmony  of  the  Old  and 
New  Testament ;  Exposition  of  the  Apocalypse ;  Psalter  of  Ten 
Chords.  To  the  last  are  attached  two  hymns  of  Paradise,  the 
second  of  which  was,  as  Renan  conjectures,  one  of  the  sources 
of  Dante's  Commedia.  Several  other  works  of  uncertain  author- 
ship, especially  commentaries  on  Isaiah  and  Jeremiah,  were 
also  ascribed  to  him.^ 

He  wished  to  be  orthodox  and  remained  in  the  communion  of 
the  Catholic  Church,  but  his  apocalyptic  opinions  could  easily 
lead  astray  and  be  utilized  for  heretical  purposes.  After  his 
death  he  was  condemned  by  the  fourth  Lateran  Council  (1215) 
for  tritheism.^  He  gave  great  offence  by  his  attacks  on  the 
papacy  and  his  prediction  of  the  Eternal  Gospel. 

An  older  contemporary,  St.  Hildegard,  abbess  of  the  Rupert 
convent  near  Bingen  on  the  Rhine  (b.  1098,  d.  1107),  took  a 
similar  position  on  the  church  question,  and  was  generally 
revered  as  a  prophetess.  Pope  Eugene  III.  and  St.  Bernard 
of  Clairvaux,  while  preaching  the  second  crusade  in  Germany, 
recognized  her  divine  mission,  and  persons  of  all  ranks  flocked  to 
her  for  advice,  intercession,  consolation,  and  light  on  the  future.^ 

Joachim  attacked  as  severely  as  Dante  the  corruption  of  the 
papacy,  although  it  was  better  represented  in  the  early  than  in 
the  latter  part  of  the  thirteenth  century.  He,  too,  traced  the 
decay  of  morals  and  discipline  to  the  temporal  power  and  the 
love  of  money,  which  is  "a  root  of  all  kinds  of  evil."  (1  Tim. 
vi.  10.)     He  complains  of  the  exactions  of  the  Roman  curia. 

1  Church  History^  IV.,  220  (Am.  ed.). 

2  On  his  works,  see  Engelhardt,  I.  c. ;  Halm,  I.  c.  iii.,  84  ;  Neander,  iv.,  221  ; 
Eeuter,  ii.,  356  ;  and  Denifle,  91. 

3  He  wished  to  escape  the  inference,  from  the  unity  of  essence,  that  the 
incarnation  of  the  Son  would  imply  an  incarnation  of  the  Father  and  Spirit 
as  well.  It  is  uncertain  whether  he  wrote  a  special  book  against  Peter  the 
Lombard,  or  whether  his  views  on  the  Trinity  were  simply  gathered  from  his 
Psalterium  decern  chordarum.  See  Halm,  I.  e.  p.  87  sqq.,  and  Hefele,  Concilien- 
gesch.  v.,  180  (second  ed.  by  Kniipfler).  The  Synod  of  Aries,  1260,  condenmed 
the  doctrina  Joachimitica  of  the  three  ages. 

^  See  Neander,  iv.,  217  sqq. 


420  THE  DIVINA  COMMEDIA. 

"The  whole  world  is  polluted  with  this  evil.  There  is  no  city 
nor  village  where  the  church  does  not  push  her  benefices,  collect 
her  revenues.  Everywhere  she  will  have  prebends,  endless 
incomes.  O  God,  how  long  doest  thou  delay  to  avenge  the  blood 
of  the  innocent  which  cries  to  thee  from  beneath  the  altar  of  the 
(Roman)  capitol!'^^  He  condemns  indulgences  dispensed  from 
Rome,  and  rebukes  the  proud  and  carnal  cardinals  and  bishops 
who  seek  their  own  instead  of  the  things  of  Christ.  He  often 
compares  the  Roman  Church  with  the  Babylon  and  the  harlot 
of  the  Apocalypse,  who  commits  fornication  with  the  kings  of 
the  earth,  and  he  predicts  that  the  last  and  worst  Antichrist 
will  sit  in  the  temple  of  God  and  the  chair  of  Peter,  and  exalt 
himself  above  all  that  is  called  God.  He  agreed  with  Hildegard 
in  announcing  a  terrible  judgment  and  consequent  purification 
and  transformation  of  the  Church  and  the  papacy. 

He  divided  the  history  of  the  world  into  three  periods,  which 
correspond  to  the  persons  of  the  Holy  Trinity,  the  three  leading 
Apostles — Peter,  Paul,  and  John,  and  the  three  Christian  graces 
— faith,  hope,  love.  The  period  of  the  Father  extends  from  the 
creation  to  the  incarnation ;  the  period  of  the  Son  to  the  year 
1260;  the  period  of  the  Holy  Spirit  to  the  end  of  the  world. 
The  first  period  is  the  period  of  the  laity,  the  second  that  of  the 
clergy,  the  third  that  of  the  spiritual  monks  under  a  papa 
angelicus.  The  first  was  ruled  by  the  letter  of  the  Old  Testa- 
ment; the  second  by  the  letter  of  the  New  Testament;  the  third 
will  be  ruled  by  the  spirit  of  the  New  Testament,  i.  e.,  the 
spiritual  understanding  of  the  Gospel  of  Christ  {splrituale  evan- 
gdium  Christij  spiritualis  intelUgentia  Novi  Testamenti).  This  is 
"  the  Everlasting  Gospel,'^  to  be  proclaimed  by  the  angel  in  the 
Apocalypse  (Rev.  xiv.  6).  It  is  not  a  written  book,  hut  a  do7ium 
Spbitus  Sandl,  a  donum  contemjjlationis,  and  the  order  which  is 
to  proclaim  it,  is  an  ecdesia  contemplativa,  a  populus  spiritualis? 

Tlie  last  })eriod  is  the  period  of  love  represented  by  the  be- 

^  See  Xeander,  iv. ,  222. 

2  A  distinction  should  be  made  between  the  unwritten  Gospel  of  Joachim 
and  the  written  Gospel  of  the  Joachimites  He  was  too  modest  to  identify 
the  Everlasting  Gospel  with  his  own  writings.  Comp.  Halm,  I.  c.  p.  158, 
stiq.  ;  Denifle,  I.  c.  p.  56. 


THE  DIVINA  COMMEDIA.  421 

loved  disciple,  the  period  of  peace,  the  Sabbath  which  remains 
for  the  people  of  God.  It  will  be  preceded  by  a  terrible  con- 
flict with  the  concentrated  power  of  Antichrist  in  its  last  and 
most  i^owerful  form.  Then  will  be  fulfilled  the  prophecy  of 
Isaiah  (xiii.,  9  sqq.),  ''  when  the  day  of  Jehovah  cometh  with 
wrath  and  fierce  anger  to  make  the  land  a  desolation  and  to 
destroy  the  sinners  thereof,  when  the  sun  shall  be  darkened,  and 
the  moon  shall  not  shine." 

The  three  periods  are  also  subdivided  into  seven  sub-periods, 
corresponding  to  the  days  of  creation  and  the  Sabbath  of  rest. 

These  prophecies  are  more  fully  developed  in  the  doubtful, 
than  in  the  three  genuine,  writings  of  Joachim,  and  are  involved 
in  mystical  fog. 

The  views  of  Joachim  were  adopted,  enlarged  and  exagger- 
ated after  his  death  by  the  Joachimites,  a  branch  of  the  Fran- 
ciscans who  opposed  the  prevailing  laxity  which  had  crept  into 
the  order,  and  who  insisted  on  the  severe  rule  of  the  founder. 
They  were  called  Spirituals  (Spirituales,  ZelatoreSy  Fraticelli), 
They  indulged  in  ascetic  extravagances  and  apocalyptic  fancies, 
vehemently  opposed  the  worldliness  of  the  clergy  and  monks, 
and  became  more  and  more  antipapal  and  antichurchly.  Their 
war  cry  was  'Hhe  Everlasting  Gosj^el/'  which  created  a  great 
sensation  about  the  middle  of  the  thirteenth  century.-^ 

^  Franz  Ehile  (a  Jesuit  scholar  and  co-editor  of  the  ArcJiiv  fur  Literaiur- 
uncl  Kirchcngescli.  des  31ittelalters)  thus  estimates  the  importance  of  this  move- 
ment (Z.  c.  p.  509)  : — 

^'' Sowohl  fur  die  kircJdicJte  als  f'ilr  die  poUtisclie  GescJiicJde  des  13.  mid  I4. 
JJis.  Jiatie  die  im  Franciscanerorden  ersiandene  Beivegunr/,  welcJie  wir  geicohn- 
lich  an  die  Nnmen  der  Spiritualen  und  Fraiicellen  zii  knilpfcn  pflegen^  eine  nicht 
zu  unterschdizende  Bedeutung.  Dicselhe  xcar  zundchst  ini  13  JIi.  von  grosster 
Tragweite  fiir  die  Entwicklung  des  auf  das  kirchlicJie,  ja  auch  auf  das  biirgcr- 
liche  und  politiscJie  Leben  mdchtig  einicirkenden  Ordcns.  Sodann  ist  die  Ge- 
schichte  der  Spiritualen  eng  vcrlmnden  mil  dem  hcdeidungsvollen  Wechscl,  icelcher 
sich  auf  dem  SiuJde  Petri  dureh  die  Ahdankung  Colestins,  die  ErwclMung  und 
kirchlich-poJitische  Bichtung  Bonifaz  VIII.  vollzog ;  sie  spielt  in  die  gewaliigen 
Kdmpfe  hinein,  welche  dieser  letzere  Fapst  mit  den  Colonnas  und  noch  wuer- 
gleichlich  mehr  mit  deren  Beschufzer  Fhilipp  dem  ScJionen  zu  hestchen  hatte. 
Ohne  ein  genaues  Versidndniss  dieser  Streitigkeiten  sind  mehrere  der  wiclitigsten 
Decrete  des  Vienner  Concils  unvcrstdndlich.  Allhckannt  istfcrner  die  massgchcnde 
Bolle,  welche  die  Fraticcllen  in  dem  so  hartndckigcn,  fiir  Kirche  und  Beich  gleich 
verderblichen  Zwiste  zwischen  Johann  XXII.  und  Ludwig  dem  Bayern  spielten. 


422  THE  DIVINA  COMMEDIA. 

Gerard,  or  Gherardiuo,  of  Borgo-San-Donnino,  a  Franciscan 
monk,  published  at  Paris,  in  1254,  a  popular  epitome  of  Joachim's 
prophetic  and  apocalyptic  writings,  with  an  Introduction  [Intro- 
ductot'ius),  under  the  title,  "  The  Everlasting  Gospel,''  and  an- 
nounced the  near  advent  of  the  Era  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  which 
would  abrogate  the  economy  of  the  Son  or  the  New  Testament, 
as  the  economy  of  the  Son  had  abrogated  the  economy  of  the 
Father  or  the  Old  Testament.  By  the  Everlasting  Gospel  he 
meant  the  three  chief  works  of  Joachim,  which  were  to  take  the 
place  of  the  New  Testament,  and  to  be  the  canon  of  the  dispensa- 
tion of  the  Holy  Spirit.-^ 

The  publication  excited  a  great  commotion  in  the  University 
of  Paris  and  throughout  the  Church.  Pope  Alexander  IV.  ap- 
pointed a  Commission  of  investigation  at  Anagni,  where  he  then 
resided.  The  result  was  the  condemnation  of  "  The  Everlastino^ 
Gospel  '^  in  1255."  Gherardino  refused  to  recant,  and  was  con- 
demned to  prison  for  life.  He  died  there  after  eighteen  years. 
The  failure  of  the  prophecy  destroyed  its  effect  after  1260  more 
effectually  than  the  papal  anathema.  The  expectations  of  the 
people  were  raised  to  the  highest  pitch  in  November  of  that  year 
by  a  procession  of  the  Flagellants  of  Perugia  through  Italy,  but 
the  year  passed  without  ushering  in  the  new  era. 

But  the  spirit  of  Joachim  and  Gerard  revived  in  tlie  party  of 
the  Spirituals  and  their  successors,  the  Fraticelli.  Their 
23rophecies  were  renewed  in  modified  forms,  especially  by  Peter 
John  de  Oliva,  who  was  styled  Dr.  Columbinus  (the  columba,  or 
dove,  being  the  symbol  of  the  party,  and  of  the  Holy  Spirit),  and 
were  published  in  a  mystic  commentary  on  the  mysteries  of  the 
Apocalypse  about  1290.  History  was  now  divided  into  sev^en 
periods.     The  sixth  period  was  dated  from  St.  Francis  of  Assisi 

Wer  cndlich  ein  Gegenstuch  zu  kern  Ideenkreis  unci  dcr  Litteratiir  unsercr  deut- 
schen  Mystiker  und^  der  sogcnannten  *  Gottesfrcunde  '  sucht,  ivird  in  dcr  Ge- 
schichte,  den  Schriftcn  und  Anschauungcn  der  Spiritualcn  manche  frappante 
Veyglcichspunkte  fmdcn. ' ' 

^  The  Introductorius  in  Evangclium  JEternum  is  lost,  with  the  exception  of 
some  extracts  i)reserved  by  Eymerich  from  the  Koniau  Acts.  See  Hahn,  J.  c. 
p.  1G4-174. 

2  The  report  of  the  Commission  was  published  from  MSS.,  by  Deuifle,  in 
1885,  /.  c.  p.  97-145. 


THE  DIVINA  COMMEDIA.  423 

(b.  ,1182),  and  extended  to  the  time  when  the  temporal  power  of 
the  papacy,  and  with  it  the  general  corruption  of  the  world,  would 
reach  its  height  and  hasten  the  Divine  judgment  on  the  carnal 
Church.  Then  would  appear  the  true  spiritual  Church  of  the 
Holy  Spirit,  free  from  the  poison  of  earthly  possessions,  and 
would  convert  the  Jews  and  Gentiles. 

From  year  to  year  the  Spirituals  waited  for  the  advent  of  the 
seventh  period,  but  waited  in  vain.  They  led  a  pure  and  austere 
life,  according  to  the  strict  rule  of  their  founder.  They  declined 
to  recognize  any  pope  since  John  XXII.  (1316-1324),  and  were 
fearfully  persecuted  for  more  than  a  hundred  years.  The  bones 
of  de  Oliva  were  dug  u})  and  burnt,  and  his  writings  were  pro- 
hibited until  Sixtus  IV.  (1471-1484),  himself  a  Minorite, 
ordered  a  new  investigation,  which  declared  them  orthodox. 

The  persecutions  heightened  the  anti-papal  spirit  of  the  party 
and  matured  the  opinion  that  the  ])apal  chair  was  or  might 
become  for  a  season  the  very  seat  of  Antichrist  in  the  temple 
of  God.  This  opinion  was  confirmed  under  Boniface  VIII.  by 
his  audacious  claim  of  supremacy  over  the  whole  world,  his 
tyranny  and  immorality.  It  found  expression  in  the  writings 
of  Giacopone  da  Todi,  of  the  order  of  the  Minorites,  the  author 
of  the  Stabat  Mater,  and  in  the  Commedia  of  Dante,  his  younger 
contemporary.  Giacopone  was  excommunicated  and  imprisoned 
by  Boniface,  but  pronounced  blessed  by  posterity.-^  Dante  was 
exiled  by  the  Guelf  government  of  Florence  under  the  influence 
of  the  same  pope,  but  his  exile  gave  the  world  the  Dlvina  Com- 
media. 

Dante  kept  aloof  from  the  ascetic  extravagancies  and  apoca- 
lyptic fancies  of  the  Joachimites  and  Spirituals.  He  liad  too 
much  respect  for  Thomas  Aquinas  and  Bonaventura,  too  much 
knowledge  of  theology,  and  too  much  taste  for  art  to  fall  into 
such    extremes.     Besides,    he   had    political   aspirations    which 

^  See  p.  197.  Ilase  thus  admirably  cbaracterizes  him  (Kirchenfjesch.,  p.  309 
sq.,  11th  ed.):  ^''Giacopone  da  Todi  (f  130G)  hat  das  hochste  GJ'dek  und  ticfste 
Lcid  dcr  juwjfraulichcn  Bluttcr  hesunffcn,  die  Wonncschauerhimmlischer  Licbcund 
das  Vergelin  des  3Ienschcnhcrzcns  in  Goit ;  cr  war  aus  gliinzcnder  Weltstellung 
durch  Sehmcrz  und  Wahnsinn  liindurchgcgangcn,  ist  vom  Papste  gcbannt  und  ivie 
ein  icildcs  Thicr  gcfangcn  gchalfen,  abcr  vom  J'olkc,  in  dcsscn  Jlund-  und  Dcnkart 
er  auch  gedichtci  hat,  sclig  gcsprochen  wordcn.'" 


424  THE  DIVINA  COMMEDIA. 

looked  towards  the  restoration  of  the  German  Roman  empire. 
But  he  agreed  with  the  Joachimites  in  their  warfare  against 
the  corrupt  papacy  of  Boniface  VIII. ,  which  he  calls  "a  shame- 
less whore  firm  as  a  rock  seated  on  a  mountain  high/'^  and  in 
their  zeal  for  a  reformation  of  the  church  in  the  head  and 
members. 

DAXTE  AND  SCHELLIXG.     THE  THREE  AGES  OF  CHURCH 
HISTORY. 

In  the  confused  rubbish  of  the  prophetic  and  pseudo-prophetic 
writings  of  Joachim  of  Flore,  there  are  not  a  few  grains  of  gold 
and  fruitful  germs  of  truth.  His  division  of  three  ages  of  his- 
tory corresponding  to  the  three  persons  of  the  Trinity^  and  the 
three  leading  Apostles,  is  one  of  these  fruitful  germs. 

A  modern  German  philosopher,  who  was  a  profound  student 
of  Dante,^  has  independently  arrived  at  a  somewhat  similar, 
though  far  superior  construction  of  the  history  of  Ciiristianity. 

Schelling  starts  from  the  fact  that  Christ  elected  three  favorite 
disciples — Peter,  James,  and  John — to  whom  he  gave  new  names 
(Rock,  and  Sons  of  Thunder),  and  whom  he  made  sole  witnesses 
of  some  of  the  most  important  events  in  his  life.  They  corres- 
pond to  Moses,  the  lawgiver,  Elijah,  the  fiery  prophet,  and  John 
the  Bai)tist,  who  concluded  the  Jewish  dispensation  by  pointing 
to  Christ. 

Peter  is  the  fundamental  Apostle,  the  rock  on  which  the 
Church  was  built,  the  Apostle  of  the  Father,  the  Apostle  of 
authority,  the  Apostle  of  law  and  stability,  the  type  of  Catholi- 
cism. 

But  the  foundation  of  a  building  is  only  the  beginning,  and  is 
followed  by  a  succession,  by  a  middle  and  end.  These  are  repre- 
sented by  James  and  John,  or  rather  by  Paul  and  John.  James 
died  early,  before  he  could  fully  develop  his  mission,  and  his 
place   was   filled    by  Paul,  whom    the  Lord  had  called  before 

2  Purg.  XXXII.,  148-150:— 

^^ Sicura,  quasi  rocca  in  alio  manic, 

Seder  sopr''  csso  una  puiiana  sciolia 
M'apparve,  con  le  cUjVia  iniorno pronte.''^ 
^  See  a))ove;  p.  35r>,  -403. 


THE  DIYINA  COMMEDIA.  425 

the  martyrdom  of  James,  and  who  is  in  the  earliest  seals  of  the 
popes  associated  with  Peter  as  joint  founders  of  the  Roman 
Church. 

Paul  is  the  Elijah  of  the  Church/  who  burst  forth  like  a  fire, 
and  whose  word  burns  like  a  torch.  He  is  the  Apostle  of  God 
the  Son.  He  built  on  the  foundation  of  Peter,  yet  independently, 
and  even  in  opposition  to  him ;  for  it  is  by  contrasts  (oj'  ha-^ziwJ), 
not  by  uniformity,  that  the  Spirit  of  God  brings  about  the 
greatest  things.  He  insists  (in  the  Galatians)  on  his  direct  call 
by  Christ,  not  by  or  through  men,  and  at  Antioch  he  openly 
withstood  Peter  and  the  Jewish  pillar-apostles  {<n  doxou'^zzc;  o-tD/oj 
shai)  when  they  demanded  the  circumcision  of  the  Gentile  Chris- 
tians, and  their  subjection  to  the  bondage  of  the  law.^  Paul 
represents  the  principle  of  independence,  motion,  development 
and  freedom  ;  he  is  the  type  of  the  Protestant  Reformation,  that 
revolt  long  prepared  against  the  exclusive  and  tyrannical 
authority  of  Peter.^ 

Whatever  may  be  said  against  .the  Roman  Church  is  fore- 
shadowed in  Peter,  and  is  not  concealed  in  the  Gospels,  least  in 
that  of  Mark  (which  is  Peter's  Gospel).  He,  and  he  alone 
among  the  Apostles,  took  the  sword,  which  is  inseparable  from 
an  earthly  kingdom,  and  the  Roman  Church  wielded  the  sword, 
especially  in  the  thirteenth  century,  against  the  heretics  so-called, 
not  only  the  New-Manichseans  and  Albigenses,  but  also  against  the 

^  Melanclithon  called  Luther  an  Elijah  aud  the  true  successor  of  St.  Paul. 

-  Peter  may  have  had  especially  iu  miud  the  Epistle  to  the  Galatiaus  ^vheIl 
he  says  that  in  the  Epistles  of  Paul  there  "are  some  things  hard  to  he  under- 
stood" [dvcrorjrd  riva,  2  Pet.  iii.  16).  The  Papal  Encyclical  of  May  8th,  1844, 
against  the  Bible  Societies,  makes  use  of  this  passage  to  prove  the  danger  of 
an  indiscriminate  reading  of  the  Scriptures  :  "  5'efZ  vos  quidcm  minime  laid, 
J'enerahiJes  Fratres,  quorsum  hxc  socictatum  hihlicarum  molimiua  iKrtincant. 
Probe  cnim  nostis  consif/natum  in  sacris  ijisis  Uieris  monitum  Petri,  Apostolorum 
Principis.  qui  post  laudatas  Pauli  epidolas  esse,  ait,  in  illis  qiaedem  diffieilia 
intellectu,  quee  indocti  et  instabiles  depravant,  sicut  et  ccteras  Scri2)turas  (id  suam 
ijjsorum  perditionem,  statimque  adjicit :  Vos  igitur  frafres  prsescientes  custodiie, 
ne  insijiientiiun  en-ore  traducti  e.veidatis  a  propria  fnmitafe.''^ 

^  ^^  1st  derjenige  ein  Protestant,^'  says  Schelling  (/.  c.  p.  310),  ^' der  ausser 
der  auf  die  Aultoritdt  Petri  gegrilndcten  Kirchc,  unabhdngig  von  ihr  sicJi  hdtt, 
so  ist  der  Apostel  Paulus  der  erste  Protestant,  tind  die  alteste  Urhunde,  die  der 
Protestantismus  fi'ir  sieh  aufzuweisen  hat,  die  Magna  Charta  desselben,  ist  das 
ziveite  Kapitel  des  Briefs  an  die  Galater.'^ 


426  THE  DIVINA  COMMEDIA. 

Spirituals  among  the  Franciscans,  who  perished  in  the  flames  of 
the  stake  by  the  thousands,  and  could  find  refuge  only  with  the 
German  emperor,  Louis  the  Bavarian.  It  was  among  these  sects 
that  the  opinion  first  arose  that  the  pope  was  the  veritable  Anti- 
christ and  the  beast  of  the  Apocalypse.  The  same  Peter  who 
was  called  the  Rock  of  the  Ciiurch,  was  soon  afterwards  called  a 
Satan  by  our  Saviour  when  he  presumed  to  turn  his  Master  away 
from  the  path  of  the  cross.  In  the  former  character  he  was  to 
be  guided  by  Divine  wisdom  and  power,  in  the  latter  he  followed 
the  instinct  of  worldly  prudence.  But  Christ  says :  *^  If  any 
man  would  come  after  me,  let  him  deny  himself,  and  take  up  his 
cross  daily,  and  follow  rae."  (Luke  ix.,  23.)  The  threefold 
denial  of  Peter  has  likewise  a  typical  significance.  The  Roman 
Church  has  denied  Christ  in  three  ways :  first,  by  striving  after 
political  power;  then  by  using  the  political  power  as  executioner 
of  her  bloody  decrees,  and  last  by  yielding  herself  as  an  instru- 
ment to  the  secular  arm.  But  as  Christ  intrusted  the  same 
Peter  who  had  thrice  denied  him,  thrice  with  the  feeding  of  his 
flock,  so  the  Roman  Church,  in  whose  bosom  so  many  holy 
members  have  uttered  sighs  and  complaints  over  her  corrup- 
tions, has  not  ceased  to  be  a  Church  of  Christ,  and  to  hold 
fast  to  the  foundation  of  the  faith.  Perhaps  the  time  is  not 
far  distant  when  she  will,  with  Peter,  weep  bitterly  over  her 
denial. 

John  is  the  Apostle  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  the  Apostle  of  the 
future,  the  Apostle  of  love,  and  represents  the  New  Jerusalem 
from  heaven,  the  truly  catholic,  ideal  Church  of  the  union  of 
Catholicism  and  Protestantism.  He  alone  speaks  of  the  Spirit 
whom  the  Son  will  send  from  the  Father,  who  proceeds  from 
the  Father,  and  who  will  guide  the  Church  into  the  whole  and 
perfect  truth.  His  position  is  indicated  in  the  mysterious  pre- 
diction of  Christ  to  Peter  concerning  John  :  "  If  I  will  that  he 
tarry  till  I  come,  what  is  that  to  thee  ?  '^  (John  xxi.,  22.)  This 
was  at  an  early  time  misunderstood  to  indicate  that  John  was 
not  to  die,  but  the  real  meaning  is  that  his  mission  would  begin 
with  the  second  advent,  that  is,  in  the  last  age  of  the  Church. 
It  has  no  reference  to  the  existence  of  John,  but  to  his  work, 
which  can  only  be  accomplished  after  the  exclusiveness  of  Peter 


THE  DIVINA  COMMEDIA.  427 

is  done  away  with,  and  tlie  Ciuirch  arrives  at  the  unity  of  the 
one  flock  and  one  Shepherd.     (Jolin  x.,  16.) 

The  Church  of  St.  Lateran  in  Rome  has  the  first  rank  in  the 
Catholic  world,  as  the  Latin  inscription  says:  '^  Sacrosanda 
Lateranensis  ecclcHia,  omnium  urbis  d  orbis  ecdesiarum  mater  et 
cajnitJ'  The  s})lcndid  temple  of  St.  Peter,  which  was  the  next 
occasion  for  the  Reformation,  stands  in  the  centre  of  the  city  of 
Rome.  The  Church  of  St.  Paul,  which  burned  down  under  Pius 
yil.,  and  is  not  yet  quite  rebuilt,  is  outside  of  the  walls.  At 
some  future  time  a  church  will  be  built  for  all  three  Apostles — 
a  true  pantheon  of  Church  History.^ 

This  is  a  summary  of  Schelling's  philosophy  of  Church  His- 
tory. It  is,  like  all  philosophical  constructions  which  anticipate 
the  future^known  only  to  God,  more  or  less  fanciful;  but  it  is 
certainly  grand  and  ingenious  and  involves  a  truth,  which  illu- 
minates the  past  and  casts  light  on  the  future.  It  impresses 
itself  indelibly  upon  the  mind.  I  have  it  from  the  lips  of  such 
historians  as  the  evangelical  Neander  and  the  catholic  Dollinger, 
that  they  were  in  sympathy  with  it.^     The  three  chief  Apostles 

1  See  the  two  concluding  lectures  of  Schelling's  PMlosopliie  der  Ojfcnbnrung 
in  Sammtliclie  Werke,  Zweiie  AUlicilung,  vol.  IV  (1858),  pp.  294-332.  He 
claims  originality  for  his  view,  hut  says  expressly  (p.  298)  that  he  found  it 
confirmed,  even  in  most  of  the  details,  hy  the  writings  of  Joachim  of  Floris 
as  presented  in  the  fifth  volume  of  Neander's  Church  Ilisforij,  which  appeared 
in  1841  (in  the  American  edition  it  is  vol.  iv).  I  heard  Schelling's  lectures 
in  1842  at  the  University  of  Berlin  and  reported  his  views  of  the  three  ages 
of  Church  History  in  1844  (14  years  hefore  their  publication)  at  tlie  close  of 
my  Inaugural  Address,  The  Principle  of  Proicsia7itism,  pp.  174-17G.  I  saw 
Schelling  for  the  last  time  at  Ragatz,  in  Switzerland  (where  he  is  huried),  a 
few  days  hefore  his  death  (Aug.  20,  1854),  Avhen  he  told  me  that  he  still  held 
fast  to  this  idea  and  derived  much  comibrt  from  it,  but  Avould  supplement  it 
by  making  room  for  James,  as  the  typical  Apostle  of  the  Greek  Church. 

2  Neander  expressed  a  similar  view  at  the  close  of  the  third  edition  of  his 
History  of  the  Planting  and  Training  of  the  Christian  Church.  He  dedicated 
the  first  volume  of  the  revised  edition  of  his  Church  llistorg  to  Schelling  in 
the  same  year  in  which  the  latter  delivered  his  lectures  on  the  Philosophy  of 
Eevelation  (1842).  He  says  in  the  dedication  :  "In  Avluit  you  publicly  ex- 
pressed respecting  the  stadia  in  the  development  of  the  Christian  Church, 
how  much  there  ^vas  Avhich  struck  in  harmony  Avitli  my  own  views  !  "  I 
might  also  refer  for  similar  statements  to  Steffens,  Schmieder,  Lauge, 
UUmann. 


428  THE  DIVINA  COMMEDIA. 

and  their  work,  the  Jewish  Christianity  of  Peter,  the  Gentile 
Christianity  of  Paul,  the  temporary  collision  of  the  two,  and  the 
final  consolidation  of  both  branches  by  John — anticipate  and 
foreshadow  the  past  and  future  development  of  Christ's  kingdom 
on  earth. 

Dante  likewise  recognizes  three  typical  Apostles  who  rep- 
resent the  three  Christian  graces,  but  he  adheres  to  the  origi- 
nal trio  of  Christ's  first  selection,  and  omits  the  Apostle  Paul. 
He  regards  Peter  as  the  Apostle  of  Faith,  James  the  Elder 
(John's  brother)  as  the  Apostle  of  Hope,^  and  John  as  the 
Apostle  of  Love.  In  Paradise  he  places  Peter,  as  the  keeper  of 
the  keys  of  the  glorified  Church,  and  John,  as  the  seer  of  ^^  the 
beautiful  bride  who  with  the  spear  and  with  the  nails  was  won," 
next  to  the  Queen  of  Paradise  in  the  mystic  Rose  of  the  Blessed.^ 
He  sees  John  (with  an  allusion  to  the  legend  of  his  sleep  till  the 
second  advent)  in  the  chariot  of  the  Church  triumphant  as 

' '  An  aged  man  alone 
Walking  in  sleep  with  countenance  acute. ' ' 

The  difference  as  well  as  the  harmony  in  the  Catholic  and 
Protestant  estimate  of  the  Apostles  is  characteristic.  A  Pro- 
testant would  subordinate  James  to  Paul,  and  coordinate  Peter 
and  Paul  as  Apostles  of  Faith,  and  joint  Founders  of  the 
Church,  the  one  among  the  Jews,  the  other  among  the  Gen- 
tiles. Paul  was  not  one  of  the  Twelve,  and  does  not  fit  into 
the  regular  succession,  but  he  is  of  equal  power  and  author- 
ity with  them,  and  as  to  the  abundance  of  labors  he  surpassed 
them  all.  He  was  soon  thrown  into  the  background  in  the 
early  Church,  as  a  sort  of  holy  outsider  and  dangerous  inno- 
vator, and  was  never  thoroughly  appreciated  till  the  time  of 
the  Peformation.  Even  such  fathers  as  Orlgen,  Chrysostom 
and  Jerome  could  not  conceive  it  possible  that  he  should  have  so 
boldly  and  sharply  rebuked  the  older  Apostle  Peter  at  Antioch, 
and  hence  they  perverted  the  scene  into  a  theatrical  farce  or  sub- 
stituted an  imaginary  Peter  for  the  historical  Peter.     Nor  does 

1  Dante  seems  to  have  confounded  him  with  the  writer  of  tlie  Epistle  of 
James,  wliich  empliasizes  good  works.  He  believed  in  the  impossible  Span- 
ish legend  of  Campostello.     Par.  xxv.,  17,  18. 

2  Far.  XXXII.,  124-129.     Purg.  xxix.,  143 sq.;  comp.  Par.  xxv.,  112-126. 


THE   DIYIXA   COMMEDIA.  429 

the  papal  Church,  in  her  official  denunciations  of  Bible  Socie- 
ties, forget  to  quote  Peter's  words  about  the  difficult  matters  in 
Paul's  Epistles,  and  about  the  danger  of  ^'  private  interpreta- 
tion '^  of  the  Scriptures. 

But  Joachim,  Dante,  and  Schelling,  agree  in  the  hopeful  out- 
look toward  a  higher  and  purer  age  of  the  Church,  and  connect 
it  with  the  name  of  the  beloved  Disciple,  the  bosom  friend  of 
Jesus,  the  seer  of  the  new  heavens  and  the  new  earth,  the  apos- 
tolic forerunner  of  an  age  of  love,  concord  and  peace. 


INDEX. 


Abclard,  2r,2. 

Abiahull,  J.  n.,  iro. 

Ad    Cor    Christi,    245;    translation    into 

English,  247. 
Ad  Fa  vie  ill  Chn'sti,  24S;  translation  into 

English,  250. 
Adam,  375. 

Albertus  Magnus,  2S5,  399. 
Albizzi,  B.,  i46. 
Adoration,  192. 
Agapetus,  410. 
Altieri,  343,  345. 
Alexander  the  Great,  387. 
Alexander,  J.  A.,  46,  108. 
Alexander,  J.  W.,  241,  252. 
Alfred,  King,  256. 
Alford,  Henry,  154,  156. 
Alum  mater,  257. 
American  civilization,  273. 
Amos,  107. 
Anastasius  II.,  386. 
d'Andrea,  Novella,  265. 
Angus,  Joseph,  73,  115. 
Annihilation,  377. 
Anonymous    translations,   167,  171,   178, 

ISO,  208,  209,  215,  229. 
Anselm,  St.,  139,  396,417. 
Antenora,  389. 

Aquinas,  see  Thomas  Aquinas. 
Archiginnasio,  of  Bologna,  267,  2GS. 
Argenti,  386. 

Aristotle,  367,  376,  382,  296. 
Arius,  386. 
Asaph,  73. 
Astrology,  359. 
Attila,  387. 

Augustin,  St..  137,  297,  377,  395,  402. 
Avicenna,  397. 
Aylward,  J.  D.,  171. 


Bacon,  Francis,  299. 

Banquet  {Conrivio),   the,  294,  298,305, 

319,  396,  397,  398. 
Bartoli,  291. 
Bassi,  Laura.  264. 
Beatific  vision,  the,  403. 
Beatrice,   286,   288,  290,   310,   364,   367, 

393,  402. 
Bede,  399. 
Beethoven,  64, 
Belial,  stream  of,  381. 


Benedict  XIV.,  198. 

Benedict,  St.,  399. 

Benedict,  E.  C,  169,  203. 

Bernard,  St..  of  Chiirvaux,  139,  142, 
234,  245,  368,  401. 

Bernard,  of  Clunv,  252. 

Bickell,  Ct.,  124.' 

Blacks  (Xeri),  302. 

Blew,  W.  J.,  164. 

Boccaccio,  295,  355. 

Boethius,  294,  399. 

Bologna,  298. 

Bologna  University,  262;  size,  263 
tendance,    264 ;    octo-centennial, 
visitors,  265 ;  encomium  from  the 
man  Emperor,  270  ;  literature,  27! 

Bonaventura,  St.,  147. 

Boniface  YIII.,  197,  302,  305,  321, 
388,  412,  423. 

Boselli,  269. 

Botta,  A.  C,  Mrs.,  268. 

Botta,  v.,  371,  384. 

Breviarv,  the  Roman,  150,  234. 

Briggs,Chas.  A.,  124. 

Brown,  Goold,  2. 

Brown,  J.  M.,  172. 

Brunet,  220. 

Brunetto  Latini,  298,  388. 

Brutus,  390. 

BUlow,  von,  213. 

Bull,  Papal,  260,  412. 

Bunsen,  Chev.,  177. 

"Bursars,"  261. 

Buti,  F.  da,  416. 

Buxtorf,  124. 

Byron,  Lord,  38,  47. 


Caedmon,  10. 
Civsar,  376. 
Can  Grande,  308,  311. 
Canon,  262. 
Canzon!ere,  322. 
Capellini,  269. 
Capeneus,  387. 
Carducci,  G.,  270. 
Carlyle.  Thomas,  78,  318,  346,  371. 
Carlyle,  John  A.,  336, 
Carpenter,  G.  B.,  295. 
Gary,  H.  F.,  336,  373. 
Caswall,  E.,  164,  199,  2.34,  239. 
Catholic  Hymn  Book,  Erfurt,  213. 
431 


198, 


;  at- 
265; 
Ger- 


379, 


432 


INDEX. 


Catholic  Hymn  Book,  Munich,  173. 

Cato  of  Utfca,  391. 

Cattaiii.  Guiseppina.  2C4. 

Cavalcanti,  C.  de,  3i^3. 

Cava'cauti,  G.,  2S7,  21)0. 

Cecilia,  St.,  64. 

Cenori,  G.,  272. 

Charge  of  the  Light  Brigade,  49. 

Charleinajine,  256,  395. 

Charles,  E'iz.  R.,  Mrs.,  143,  164,  240. 

Charles  of  Valois,  302. 

Chaucer,  22,  390. 

Chri.-^t,  2S4,  369,  375. 

Chronicle  of  Dante,  325. 

Chureh,  corruptions  of,  364,  394,  400,  412, 

419,  424. 
Church  and  education,  277. 
Church  and  state,  275,  390,  410,  413. 
Chrysostoni,  395. 
Cicero,  17,  99,  294,  385. 
City  of  Xew  York,  University,  274;  its 

reliirious  basis,  276. 
Clement  V.,  364.  388,  401,  411. 
Clement  of  Alexandria,  252. 
Cleopatra,  384. 
Coelestin  V.,  379. 
Coles.  Abraham,  138,  143,  154,  155,  165, 

]91,201,  202,  225,  242,  250. 
Colleges,  261. 
Common  Prayer  Book,  53. 
Con.<tantine  the  Great,  394,  413,  414. 
Coiin'rio  {Cnnrito),  see  Banquet. 
Copeland,  W.  J.,  171. 
Copi)i,  M.  S.,  297. 
Correaio,  223. 
Couanl,  C.  L.,  178. 
Cousin,  Victor.  143. 
Crashaw,  Richard,  153,  163. 
Creed  of  Dante,  324. 


Daniel,  the  prophet,  107. 

Daniel,  H.  A.,  141,  148,  150,  153,  179, 
180,  189,  211. 

Dante,  95,  140,  279,  293,  306,  308,  312, 
321,  323,  351,  371,  409,  423,  427.  See 
Tab'e  of  Contents. 

Dante— Chnnicle,  325. 

Dante— Literature,  in  Italian,   328-331 
French,  331;  German,  332-334;  Eng- 
lish, 334-337. 

Davi  1.  King,  72,  137,  379. 

Davidson,  R.,  167. 

Deb  )rah,  song  of,  87. 

J)e  Coiilempta  Mundi,  252. 

Decretist,  263. 

Deg  -ees.  258. 

De'it/sch.  Fr.,  101,  103,  122,  129. 

Democritus,  376. 

Den i fie,  257,  418,  420 

De  ^'er(^  Srhele,  22. 

Dc  \\\\U\  124,  129. 

Dexter.  II.  AL,  252. 

Didactic  poetry,  98. 

Dido,  384. 


Diepenbrock,  M.,  221. 

DieH  Irie,  134,  149.  See  Table  of  Con- 
tents. 

DlUmann,  82,  90. 

Dionysius,  the  Areopagite,  359. 

Dix,  J.  A.,  168,  204, 

Dix,  W.  G.,  166. 

iJirina  Commedta,  345.  See  Table  of 
Contents. 

Dodd,  C.  M.,  170. 

Dcdce,  Carlo,  190. 

Dominic,  416 

Donati,  Gemma,  292,  299,  305;  enco- 
mium on,  300. 

Donation  of  Constantine,  413. 

Doring,  A.  C,  176. 

Dramatic  poetry,  112. 

Draper,  H.,  272. 

Draper,  J.  W.,  275. 

Dreves,  L.,  179. 

Dryden,  65. 

Duffield,  S.  W.,  158. 

Dux,  308,  310,  311,  363. 

Dwight,  B.  W.,  11. 


Ebeling,  C.  D.,  173. 

Ecclesiastes,  1  04. 

Eeker,  J.,  124. 

Ehrle,  F.,  418,  421. 

Elijah,  421. 

Emolument  to  professors,  260. 

Empire,  on  the,  320,  365,  410. 

Empyrean,  the,  395,  400. 

English  Language.  See  Table  of  Con- 
tents. 

Erasmus,  68. 

Erhard,  H.  A.,  177. 

''Eternal  womanly,"  283,  291. 

Eucherius,  361. 

Eusebius,  123. 

Ewald,  H.,  67,  72,  78,  81,  82,  106,  108, 
112. 


Faber,  F.  ^\ ,,  62. 

Fable,  105. 

Fabricius,  233. 

Fahnestock,  A.  IL,  172. 

F(imt,  Goethe's,  281. 

Ferrari,  301. 

Fichte,  J.  G.,  175. 

Flagellants,  192,  422. 

Florence,  314. 

Follen,  Ad.  L.,  175,  214. 

Fiirster,  221. 

Fortlage,  K.,  179, 

Fortunatus.  390. 

Fouque,  de  L.  M.,  214. 

Fox,  25. 

Francis  of  Assisi,  146,  191,  19.3,  196,  416. 

Franke,  177. 

Fraticelli,  322. 

Frederick  I.,  263. 

Frederick  II.,  257,  307,  386. 


INDEX. 


433 


Frederick  IIL,  Emperor,  270,  272. 
Friedrich,  F.,  414. 
Friends,  the,  196. 


Galvani,  Luigi,  265. 

Giivazzi,  Father,  207. 

Geibel,  E.,  344. 

Gerard  (Gherardino),  422. 

Gerhardt,  Paul,  140,  252. 

Ghibellines,  305,  320. 

Giacopone,  14S,  193,  196,  220,  423. 

Gietmann,  G-,  304 

Gildeineister,  0.,  374. 

God,  2S0,  400. 

Godet,  F.,  270. 

Goethe,  65,  78,  139,  144,  192,  268,  279, 

281,  283,  306,  315,  355,  390. 
Gratian,  262,  387,  399. 
Grau,  C.,215. 
Green,  W.  H.,  114. 
Gregory  of  Nazianzen,  113. 
Gregory,  the  Great,  147,  395. 
Gregory  VII.,  410. 
''Greyhound"  (  Veltro),  309,  373. 
Grimm,  Jacob,  5. 
Gryphius,  A.,  173. 
Guelf,  301. 
Gymnasia,  261. 


Habakkuk,  107. 
Hager,  J.  S.,  172. 
Hagiographa,  67. 
Hlimmerlin,  Felix,  147,  150. 
Handel,  64. 
Hahn,  418,  420. 
Harms,  C,  177. 
Harrison,  B.  H.,  272. 
Haso,  423. 
Haydn,  193. 
Hayes,  J.  L.,  172,  205. 
Heathen,  the,  375. 

Hebrew  poetry,  122.     See  Table  of  Con- 
tents. 
Hebrews,  arts  among,  66. 
Henry  IV.,  301. 
Henry  VII.,  306,  321,415. 
Hengstenberg,  90. 
Herder,  67,  77,  124,  153,  173. 
Hettinger,  315,  322,  406. 
Hildegard,  St.,  419 
Hillard,  Katherine,  291,  396. 
History,  383. 
Hitchcock,  R.  D.,  208. 
Hoffinger,  Josefa  von,  300. 
Homer,  73,  279,  348,  376. 
Honorius  I.,  387. 
Hood,  48. 
Horace,  376. 
Hosea,  107. 

Humboldt,  Alex,  von,  78. 
Husenbeth,  F.  C,  164. 

28 


IndifTcrcntists,  379. 

Infant  salvation,  377. 

Inferno,  358,  300,  369,  393,  403  ;  writing 
on  gate,  373,  vestibule  of,  378;  configu- 
ration, 380;  rivers  in,  381 ;  persons  and 
vices,  384. 

Innocent  11.,  232. 

Innocent  III.,  401. 

Irnerius,  262. 

Irons,  W.  J.,  155. 

Isaiah,  108,  109,  110. 

Italy,  266,  273,  301,  304. 


Jacapone,  Jacobus  de  Benedictis,  see  Gia- 
copone. 

Jack,  M.  F.,  105. 

Jahn, 124 

James,  the  Apostle,  400,  424,  428. 

James  II.,  152. 

Jasher,  Book  of,  69,  86. 

Jeremiah,  94,  107. 

Jerome,  89,  122,  428. 

JesH  dn/cis  memoria,  233. 

Joachim  de  Flore,  Abbot,  396,  418. 

Joachimites,  417. 

Job,  Book  of,  116. 

John,  the  apostle,  400,  402,  420,  424,  426, 
428. 

John  XXII.,  321. 

John  de  Oliva,  422 

Johnson,  F.,  171,  205,  226. 

Johnson,  Samuel,  145. 

Jonah,  107. 

Jones,  William,  77,  114. 

Josephus,  123. 

Jubilee,  papal,  354. 

Judas  Iscariot,  390. 

Judecca,  389. 

Justinian,  394. 


Kerner,  Julius,  144,  306. 

Kind,  Fr.,  175. 

Klopstock,  280. 

Knapp,  Albert,  142,  153,  179,  211,  243. 

Konigsfeld,  G.  A.,  179,  212,  230,  245. 

Kosmeli,  M.,  214. 


Labitte,  351. 

Lament  of  David,  88. 

Lamentations,  The,  93. 

Language,  its  uses  and  origin,  1 ;  its  dig- 
nity and  diversity,  3 ;  primary,  charac- 
ter, 3. 

Languages,  Anglo-Saxon,  10,  12;  King 
Alfred's,  10;  Aryan,  9  ;  French,  55,  88 
German,  41;  Gothic,  11 ;  Greek,  4,  55 
Hebrew,  4;  Latin,  4;  Norman,  23 
Platt-Deutsch,  10;  Romanic,  4;  San 
scrit,  11 ;   Saxon,  23. 

Latham,  R.  G.,  7,  18. 

Latini,  B.,  298,  388. 

Latinisms,  16,  32. 


434 


INDEX. 


Lavater,  J.  C,  213. 

Law,  263. 

Leeke,  R.,  178,  215. 

Letters,  of  Dante,  323. 

Lewis,  Tayler,  83,  104. 

Lev,  Julius,  83,  124. 

Liberius,  Pope,  387. 

Limbo,  384. 

Lindsay,  A.  W.  C,  164,  210. 

Lisco,  151,  175,  178,  210,  215. 

Lives  of  Saints,  350. 

Logan,  113. 

Longfellow,  H.  W.,  40,  343,  346,  373. 

Louis,  St.,  285. 

Louis  XIV.,  162. 

Lowell,  J.  R.,  271. 

Lowth,  Robert,  66,  67,  89,  124,  125. 

Lucia,  St.,  363,  367,  402. 

Lucifer,  city  of,  386,  390. 

Luther,  74,  264,  414. 

Lyrics  in  New  Testament,  83. 

Lyrics  in  Old  Testament,  95. 


Macaulay,  T.  B.,  154,  163,  318,  353. 

McKenzie,  W.  S.,  161,  206,  227,  228. 

"Malebolge,"  388. 

Maltitz,  Fr.  von,  214. 

Manzolina,  Mme.,  264. 

Marcion,  386. 

Mariolatry,  191. 

Marozia,  384. 

Marsh,  G.  P.,  8. 

Mary,  the  Virgin,  223,  369,  372,  402,  409. 

Maurus,  Rabanus,  361. 

Matilda,  297,  409,  411. 

Mazzini,  G.,  240. 

Meier,  E.,  124. 

Mephistophelcs,  282,  391. 

Merget,  A.,  215. 

Merx,  124. 

Messiah's  empire,  from  Isaiah,  109-111. 

Metaphysics,  397. 

Meusch,  C,  176. 

Meyer,  J.  F.  von,  141,  174,  214. 

Mezzofanti,  Cardinal,  264. 

Michael  Angelo,  137,  338. 

Middle  Ages,  292,  351,  416. 

Mills,  Henry,  15,  160,  169,  208. 

Milman,  H.  II.,  142. 

Milton,  26,  77,  280,  381,  390,  409. 

Minos,  385. 

Miracle -plays,  351. 

Mohammed,  307,  389. 

Mohnike,  146,  147,  149,  153,  177,  214. 

Monc,  148,  189,  198,  233,  237. 

Monosyllables,  45. 

Monsell,  J.  S.  B.,  200. 

Moore,  E.,  356. 

Morison,  J.  C,  233. 

Morse,  S.  F.  B.,  275. 

Moses,  83,  86,  307,  375,  424. 

Mozart,  64. 

Miiller,  John  von,  77. 

Miiller,  Max,  2,  37. 


Murillo,  223. 
Music,  origin  of,  64. 
Myrrha,  384. 
Mythology,  383. 


Neale,  J.  M.,  221,  222,  223,  252. 

Neander,  233,  418,  427. 

Neio  Life  of  Dante,  the,  286,  291,  293,  319. 

Newman,  J.  IL,  64. 

Nicholas  III.,  388,  411. 

Niemeyer,  J.  C.  W.,  177. 

Norton,  C.  E.,  287,  317. 


0  Haiipt  roll  Bhit  und  Wunden,  253. 

"  0  sacred  Head,  now  wounded,"  253. 

O'Hagan,  John,  171. 

Origen,  361,  428. 

Ozanam,  194,  218,  220,  222,  296,  348. 


Ps.,  365,  393. 

Palestrina,  193. 

Palmer,  Ray,  242. 

Panzacchi,  E.,  268. 

Papacy,  364,  410,  412,  415. 

Parable,  105. 

Paradise,  359,  366;  residents,  394;  per- 
fections, 396. 

Parallelism,  101;  synonymous,  126;  anti- 
thetic, 128 ;  synthetic,  128. 

Passion  hymns,  190,  245. 

Passions,  the,  372. 

Patriotism,  114. 

Paul,  the  apostle,  400,  420,  424. 

Pechlin,  F.  von,  177,  215. 

Pelagius,  386. 

Penitential  Psalms,  322. 

Peries,  Adolphe,  169. 

Perowne,  J.  J.  S.,  72,  79,  SO. 

Peter,  the  apostle,  400,  402,  409,  420, 
424,  425,  428. 

Petrarcha,  95,  286. 

Philalethes,  346. 

Philip  the  Fair,  304,  412. 

Philo,  361. 

Pick,  B.,  186. 

Pilate,  Pontius,  380. 

Pius  IX.,  304,  391,  403. 

Plato,  320,  397, 

Plumptre,  363,  374,  411,  417. 

Plutus,  385. 

Poet,  defined,  64. 

Poetry,  origin  of,  64 ;  and  inspiration, 
65;  and  religion,  66;  of  the  Bible,  66, 
see  Table  of  Contents ;  Old  Testament, 
67;  New  Testament,  68;  antiquity  of, 
69;  biblical,  73;  lyric,  80;  didactic, 
97;   prophetic,  106;  dramatic,  112. 

Polenta,  G.  N.  da,  312. 

Pompey,  389. 

Popes,  condemned,  411. 

Popular  Eloquence,  323. 

Porter,  T.  C,  159. 


IXDEX. 


435 


Predestination,  395. 

Prophecy,  allied  to  poetry,  106. 

Prophetic  poetry,  1U7. 

Protestant  transfusion  of  Stabnt  M.  Dulo- 

roaa,  209. 
Prout,  Father.  40. 
Proverbs,  The,  99. 
Psalms,  cla^ssitied,  93. 
Psalter,  The,  81. 
Ptolemgea,  389. 
Punishment,  future,  375. 
Pu)-(jatori(>,   358,    365;    grades    in,  392; 

characters  in,  392. 


Qiiadrivium,  257,  39r. 


Rabanus  Maurus,  361,  417. 

Raphael,  lU,  66,  318. 

Reason,  relation  to  speech,  1. 

Renan,  95,  112,  418. 

Repentance  of  Job,  119. 

Requiem,  Mozart's,  135,  145,  175. 

Revision  of  the  English  Bible,  61. 

Rhyme,  75 ;  in  Hebrew,  122. 

Riedel,  F.  X.,  173. 

Rimini,  F.  da,  383. 

Ringwalt,  B.,  180. 

RockweU.  C.  167. 

Rolker,  K.,  ISO,  216. 

Rome,  271,  427. 

Rome,  Church  of,  its  denial,  426. 

Roscommon,  Earl  of,  145,  163. 

Rose  of  the  Blessed,  401,  402. 

Rossetti,  D.  G.,  295,  335. 

Rossetti,  G.,  407. 

Rossetti,  Francesca,  335. 

Rossi,  P.  de,  264. 

Rossini,  193. 

Rothe.  R.,  283. 

Ruggieri,  Archbishop,  383. 

Ruskin,  360,  366. 


Sandford,  D.  K.,  77. 

Sargent,  E.,  167. 

Savigny,  Fr.  C.  von,  262. 

Savonarola,  409. 

Scaliger,  Joseph,  124. 

Scartazzini,  303,  315.  355,  383,  411,  417. 

SchaflF,    Philip,   138,  159,  191,  243,  252, 

359,  387,  4U3,  427. 
Schelling,  346.  353,  403,  424,  427. 
Schlegel,  A.  AY.  von,  153,  174, 
Schlosser,  F.  H.,  179. 
Schmedding,  175. 
Scholtz,  J.  A.,  176. 
Scott,  Walter,  145,  154,  163. 
Scotus,  Duns,  18. 
Scriptures,  the,  280,  291,  420. 
Seld,  von.  179,  215. 
Selden,  12. 
Semiramis,  385. 


Seneca,  376. 

Serravalle,  G.  de,  292. 

Shakespeare,  65,  279,  280,  378,  390. 

Sibyl,  137. 

Silbert,  J.  P.,  175. 

Simon  Magus,  386,  388. 

Simon,  Richard,  124. 

Simrock,  177,  214. 

Skeat,  W.  W.,  3,  6,  11,  340. 

Slosson,  E.,  169, 

Socrates,  299,  376. 

Solomon,  98,  399. 

Song  of  Deborah,  87. 

Song  of  Lamech,  82. 

Song  of  Moses,  83. 

Song  of  Moses,  farewell,  86. 

Song  of  Songs,  113, 

Song  of  the  creatures,  194. 

Song  of  the  Sun,  195. 

Spelling,  37. 

Spin'tiiales,  421,  426. 

Stabat  Mater  Dolorosa,  187.     See  Table 

of  Contents. 
Stabat  Mater  Speciosa,  218.      See  Table 

of  Contents. 
Stanley.  A.  P,,  66,  72,  78,  100,  106,  108, 

112.  170. 
Steckling,  L.,  178, 
Stella,  G.,  189,  198. 
Stephen  of  St.  Sabas,  252. 
Stephens,  Henry,  77. 
Story,  W,  AV.,  271. 
Streckfuss,  K,,  374. 
''  Study,"  257. 
Sylvester,  Joshua,  153. 
Swedenborg,  E.,  347. 
Swoboda,  W.  A,,  176. 
Synonyms,  51. 


Tacitus,  371. 

Tambroni,  Clotilda,  264. 

Tantalus,  392. 

Tauler,  139. 

Taylor,  Isaac,  68,  78,  95. 

Tennyson,  48,  342. 

Tersteegen,  114. 

TertuUian,  371. 

Terza  rima,  370. 

Thais,  384. 

Theodora,  384. 

Theodosius  II.,  262. 

Theology,  292,  359,  361,  375,  377,  397. 

Tholuck,  144,  146. 

Thomas  Aquinas,  280,  389. 

Thomas  a  Kempis,  139. 

Thomas  of  Celano,  143,  146,  370,  417. 

Thought  and  language,  1. 

Thurston,  Archbisho]),  147. 

Tieck,  L.,  192. 

Trajan,  349,  395. 

Trench.  R.  C,  7,  142,  154,  156,  234. 

Trivium,  257,  397. 

Trinity,  The,  37"0,  374,  398,  403,  420. 


436 


INDEX. 


Ubaldini,  Cardinal  0.  d,  386. 

Uberti,  F.  d,  383. 

Ugolino,  Count,  389. 

Uhland,  290,  339. 

Umberto,  King,  265, 

University,  The,  its  scope,  256. 

University  of  Middle  Ages,  foundation, 
256;  intent,  257;  faculties  in,  257; 
government,  258;  where  fostered,  259, 
261;  attendance  On,  259,  264;  lodging 
of  students,  260. 

University,  The  American,  273;  heritage, 
273;  prospects,  274;  of  Prague,  265; 
of  St.  Andrew's,  260;  of  AVittenberg, 
260;  of  Heidelberg,  260;  of  Oxford, 
260;  of  Salerno,  260;  Paris,  261;  Ro- 
man Catholic  at  Washington,  260;  of 
Naples,  264;  of  Turin,  264. 


Vallo,  Laurentius,  414. 
Van  Buren,  J.  D.,  171,  210. 
Veith,  J.  E.,  177. 

Veltro,  309,  311. 
Veneration,  192. 
Versification,  122. 
Victor  Emmanuel  II.,  267. 
Vigne,  P.  de,  387. 
Villani,  G.,  303,  354. 
Virgil,  73,  137,  279,  367. 

Vita  Nuova,  see  New  Life. 
Voragine,  J.  de,  350. 
Vossius,  G.,  124. 
Vowel  sounds,  38. 


Wackernagel,  Ph.,  148,  189,  198,  233. 
Wackernagel,  W.,  11. 


Wadding,  L.,  147,  197, 198,  418. 

AVagner,  Richard,  271. 

Washburn,  E.  A.,  246. 

Washington,  George,  277. 

Water  and  Earth,  323. 

Webster,  D.,  26. 

Webster,  N.,  3,  54. 

Weiser,  C.  Z.,  167. 

Welsh,  A.  H.,  8. 

Wessenberg,  J.  H.  von,  176,  214. 

Westcott  and  Hort,  97. 

Wetzer  and  Welte,  414. 

Whately,  25. 

Whites,  302. 

Whitney,  W.  D.,  37,  58. 

Wienzierl,  Fr.  J.,  213. 

Williams,  W.  R.,  142,  158. 

Winer,  G.  B.,  73. 

Witte,  310,  357. 

Worcester's  Dictionary,  37. 

Words,  and  intelligence,  2;  in  English 
Bible,  14,  60;  Americanisms,  34;  Ara- 
bic, 33;  Celtic,  29;  Dutch,  32;  Greek, 
31;  Hebrew,  31;  Hybrid,  35 ;  Indian, 
34;  Italian,  33;  Johnson's,  8;  Milton's, 
8,  25;  Norse,  30;  Persian,  33;  Saxon, 
12;  Shakespeare's,  8,  15,46;  Slavonic, 
34;  Spanish,  33;   Turkish,  34. 

Wordsworth,  47. 

Wordsworth,  Charles,  280. 

Worship  as  defined  by  Roman  Catholics, 
192. 

Wright,  I.  C,  374. 

Wright,  W.  A.,  116. 

Wulfila,  11. 

Wycklifi"e,  22. 


Zinzendorf,  Count,  243. 


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